Buckingham(1592-1628)

the DUKE of BUCKINGHAM

f i,oin the portrait by Rubens* Oallerv Ufitzi, Flore nee

Photo ; Anderson

BUCK ING HAM -

I592 — 1628

by

M. A. GIBB

JONATHAN GAPE

THIRTY BEDFORD SQJJARE
LONDON

FIRST PUBLISHED 1935

JONATHAN CAPE LTD. 30 BEDFORD SQUARE, LONDON
AND 91 WELLINGTON STREET WEST, TORONTO

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AT THE AUDEN PRESS

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BOUND BY A* W. BAIN $5 CO., LTD.

CONTENTS

i

ii

iii

IV

V

VI

vn

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

PREFACE

THE RISING STAR ‘ *\

C THE MAN WHOM THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR 5

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT ADVENTURE

AT THE SPANISH COURT - '

DEADLOCK

AFTERMATH

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

THE NEW KING

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

ON THE ISLE OF RHE

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

ASSASSINATION

NOTE ON SOURCES

INDEX

7

II

32
"49
■ 70
. *5
ijcfi
132
162
177
202
216
250
265
292
310

323

329

5

ILLUSTRATIONS

THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM

Frontispiece

JAMES I OF ENGLAND

facing page

44

THE INFANTA MARIA OF SPAIN

68

THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM AND HIS FAMILY

108

HENRIETTA MARIA

166

ANNE OF AUSTRIA

186

CHARLES I OF ENGLAND

212

SIR JOHN ELIOT

238

The Armorial Bearings reproduced on the cover are taken from a
copy of the Duke of Buckingham’s Garter Plate.

PREFACE

Perhaps none of the friends of the Stuart Kings has been so
frequently and thoroughly misunderstood as George
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, the great favourite of both
James I and Charles I. In the following pages, whilst not
endeavouring to excuse his mistakes, I have tried to ex¬
plain his actions, to show that he was not the altogether
vicious and irresponsible being some historians have repre¬
sented him, and to re-create something of that charming
personality — the ‘Steenie’ who captivated the affections of
two succeeding English kings.

My aim has been to tell an interesting story, and so I
have avoided holding up the flow of the narrative by
copious references. My authority is cited only in cases
where I have given a quotation from the source, or where
the point is one of especial importance. The sources I have
used are all printed, and are described in the short note at
the end, which I think will be found more interesting than
a mere list of books.

There is a wealth of material upon this subject, and a
careful selection was necessary to bring the story within its
present limits. I have had to deal with topics upon which
volumes might be written, and can only apologize before¬
hand for any omissions I may have made, reminding the
reader of the necessity, in a biography, of keeping the light
always focused upon the central figure.

M. A. Gibb

7

PREFACE

Perhaps none of the friends of the Stuart Kings has been so
frequently and thoroughly misunderstood as George
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, the great favourite of both
James I and Charles I. In the following pages, whilst not
endeavouring to excuse his mistakes, I have tried to ex¬
plain his actions, to show that he was not the altogether
vicious and irresponsible being some historians have repre¬
sented him, and to re-create something of that charming
personality — the ‘Steenie’ who captivated the affections of
two succeeding English kings.

My aim has been to tell an interesting story, and so I
have avoided holding up the flow of the narrative by
copious references. My authority is cited only in cases
where I have given a quotation from the source, or where
the point is one of especial importance. The sources I have
used are all printed, and are described in the short note at
the end, which I think will be found more interesting than
a mere list of books.

There is a wealth of material upon this subject, and a
careful selection was necessary to bring the story within its
present limits. I have had to deal with topics upon which
volumes might be written, and can only apologize before¬
hand for any omissions I may have made, reminding the
reader of the necessity, in a biography, of keeping the light
always focused upon the central figure.

M. A. Gibb

7

BUCKINGHAM

: 592 —1628

CHAPTER I

THE RISING STAR

It was Wednesday, August 3rd, 1614. The village of
Apthorpe in Northamptonshire was ablaze with the red
jackets of huntsmen and echoed to the deep voices of the
hounds. Onlookers expected to see no ordinary hunt,
for King James I and his court were visiting Apthorpe
Hall, the stately mansion of Sir Anthony Mildmay. It
was well known that Sir Anthony had excelled himself in
the splendid entertainment he had offered to the King
on his first visit, so perhaps this accounted for the fact that
the Hall had come to be one of the royal guest’s favourite
places of sojourn during his frequent progresses. The
hunting here was splendid, whilst sumptuous banquets and
masques would later in the day minister to the delights of
a pleasure-loving court.

A new-comer to court circles drank in eagerly all the
life and excitement which was seething around him. He
was a young man in the early twenties, tall, slender, and
gracefully proportioned. His soft, dark hair, curling to the
shoulder after the prevailing fashion, formed a perfect
frame for his handsome oval face, with its laughing eyes.
The mouth, on closer examination, might reveal unsus¬
pected lines of determination, but to-day, at any rate, this
young man was noticed by his fellows for his merry and
amiable disposition. George Villiers was his name — a
name so soon to be famous. He was the young son of a
Leicestershire family of very ancient lineage.

Now King James was, unfortunately, not blessed by any
remarkable beauty of form or countenance. We are told

11

BUCKINGHAM

he had a thin, ungainly figure, a scraggy beard, and a
tongue altogether too large for his mouth. When he became
excited he gabbled and stuttered, and showed a painful
lack of that regal dignity which his rank required. But
his own physical defects did not prevent him from having
an almost fanatical passion for beauty of face and figure
in others. So James had not been long at Apthorpe before
his quick eye singled out the brilliant young George
Villiers for special attention. We have no record of the
first words spoken between the two, but George was well
travelled, and had a pleasing speech, a merry wit and a
ringing laugh which would go straight to the King’s heart.
’Ere long James was calling his new acquaintance by the
most endearing appellation the royal huntsman could
devise — his ‘kinde dogge Steenie’. The nickname
‘Steenie’ was a Scotticism for Stephen, for James fancied
that he saw in George’s handsome features a resemblance
to the beautiful St. Stephen, a miniature representation of
whom was in his possession.

Fortune was all on the side of the young Villiers, for he
could not have met the King at a more propitious moment.
The reigning favourite in James’s affections was one Robert
Carr, a Scottish lad of humble birth, promoted by reason
of his good looks and dashing personality to the high rank
of Earl of Somerset, who had for some time been one of the
most powerful figures in the realm. The Scottish favourite
had long been envied and disliked by a certain section of
the English nobility, and at this very moment a powerful
court faction plotted his overthrow. Obviously, one of the
most effective methods of achieving their end lay in the
settingup of a new idol in James’s affections —thus ‘driving
out one nail by using another’. It seemed more than likely
that the handsome youth who had attracted the King
at Apthorpe would provide the new interest. They saw

ia

THE RISING STAR

nothing but amiability and generosity in his engaging
nature, and what they could discover about his birth and
mode of life up to the present was all in his favour.

He was the second son of a Sir George Villiers, who had
lived at Brookesby in Leicestershire, and whose family
could claim undisputed Norman descent. His mother was
Mary Beaumont, a gentlewoman who had fallen so far in
fortune as to have to serve in the capacity of maid-in¬
waiting to one of her own kin. In this office she was singled
out by Sir George, who was attracted by her remarkable
beauty. He married her, and on August 20th, 1 1592, she
bore him this son George, who grew more handsome with
each succeeding year, and whose grace and suppleness of
body were the envy of his brothers and comrades. The
boy learnt the rudiments of education in his birthplace
until he reached the age of ten, when he was sent to school
in the neighbouring town of Billesden. His father died
whilst he was young, and his education was left to the care
of his mother, who quickly perceived that he had no
studious inclination. So, perhaps in the hope of a brilliant
future for him at court, she chose to have him endowed
with a readiness of conversation, and such accomplishments
as fencing and dancing, which might later stand him in
good stead. So greatly did he excel in these lessons, we are
told, that his teachers were obliged to restrain him, lest he
should altogether discourage his brothers, who were by no
means so proficient.

George was always his mother’s favourite, and she spent
almost all her small income in providing him with the type
of experience which would benefit him in a court career.

1 In Sir Henry Wotton*s ‘Life and Death of George Villiers* (printed in vol. v
of the Harleian Miscellany , p. 30), the date of his birth is given as August 28th,
159a (p.308). But, in speaking of his death—which took place on August 23rd,
1628- Wotton states distinctly, ‘Thus died this great peer, in the 36th year of his
age, and three days over * (p. 321). It would seem, therefore, that Wotton originally
gave the date of Villiers’s birth as August 20th, and that it was afterwards
erroneously printed as August 28th.

13

BUCKINGHAM

At that period, no youth’s education was complete without
foreign travel, and so at the age of eighteen George went,
in the company of John Eliot, to pay a lengthy visit to
France. He spent three years in that country, learning the
language and picking up many mannerisms which helped
to enhance his particular charm. He acquired knowledge
and experience, and came back with an added poise
self-confidence which delighted his ambitious mother. So
dearly did she love this favourite son that she kept him
with her at Goodby for another year. Finally, the attrac¬
tion of a lovely lady, the daughter of Sir Roger Ashton,
Gentleman of the Bedchamber to King James, took him to
London to try his fortune.

In London George fell into the company of an ex¬
perienced courtier, Sir John Graham, a Gentleman of His
Majesty’s Privy Chamber, who foresaw fortune in his face,
and dissuaded him from a marriage which could never
make him illustrious, urging him to ‘woo fortune in court’, 1
advice which appealed strongly to young Villiers. And so
we find him at Apthorpe, where ids natural charm and
careful training won him the reward of the King’s immediate
attention.

George’s early days at court must have been a time of
great anxiety for his mother, who had exhausted her
resources in providing for him up to the present. Her
position, and that of her family, would be precarious should
this brilliant son fail to make his mark. He was fortunate in
having on his side such powerful patrons as the Earl of
Pembroke, who, we are told, was even obliged to furnish
him with the clothes his court career demanded. Villiers
had only recently been seen at a horse race in Cambridge¬
shire ‘in an old black suit broken out in divers places’, * and

14

THE RISING STAR

it was said that upon that same night he had not been able
to afford a proper bed at an inn. According to a con¬
temporary, he was ‘driven to borrowing from everyone
piecemeal to put him forward for King’s favourite’. 1 It
would seem from this evidence that Villiers was very low in
funds at the moment of his introduction at court and badly
needed one of the lucrative posts which his friends hoped to
obtain for him.

Their efforts to secure him a position in the Royal Bed¬
chamber, during the November of 1614, had been frus¬
trated by the Earl of Somerset, who was cut to the heart at
the thought of a rival occupying his place in the King’s
affections, and used every means in his power to retard the
advancement of young George Villiers. His influence with
James was still strong, and, approaching the King, he
obtained the vacancy for one of his own nephews. But
Villiers did not go unbeneficed. The less important office
of Cupbearer was given to him, and turned out to be more
to his advantage than the most optimistic of his supporters
had dared hope.

James could not fail to be impressed by the ready talk
and great personal charm of this new attendant who, in his
capacity of Cupbearer, was necessarily much in the royal
presence. The youth’s intelligent comments and amusing
reminiscences — for he had a store of merry anecdotes
culled from his recent experiences in France — fascinated
the King and the assembled company. After a while,
James himself began to create opportunities for admitting
Villiers into the conversation which usually accompanied
the royal meals, and noticed, with a growing delight, that
this handsome young man, for whom he was already
beginning to feel a more than ordinary affection, seemed to
find equal popularity with a large section of the court.

1 Aulictis Coqtdnariae , p. 258,

J 5

BUCKINGHAM

In the April of 1615 several influential noblemen —
amongst whom were the Earls of Bedford, Pembroke and
Hertford — gave a magnificent private entertainment at
Baynard’s Castle, where plans were discussed for the further
advancement of Villiers. It was on this occasion that one of
the guests, on his way to the supper, by way of showing his
contempt for Somerset, ordered his footman to fling mud
upon a portrait of the Earl which chanced to be hanging
outside a picture stall in Fleet Street. At the supper, we
are told, was formed the design for bringing Villiers more
definitely to the King’s notice. It was decided that Arch¬
bishop Abbot, who was taking a most paternal interest in
the young Cupbearer, should approach the Queen with a
view to securing her co-operation.

It is to the pen of the Archbishop that we owe the
interesting account of Villiers’s next steps in his rise to
fortune. Apparently, with a great deal of masculine guile,
James insisted that his favourites should be recommended
to him, in the first instance, by the Queen, so that after¬
wards, should occasion for complaint arise, he could
remind her that it was she who was responsible for the
introduction. Accordingly, Abbot approached Anne upon
the subject of securing a knighthood for Villiers, and found
her strangely reluctant. She had been badly bitten by
favourites in both Scotland and England, and foresaw
disagreeable consequences should they decide to advance
this young man. The Archbishop argued with her that the
change of favourites would most certainly be for the better.
‘George is of a good nature,’ he told her, and urged that
he did not show any signs of that covetousness displayed
by Somerset. Already, on many occasions, he had per¬
formed for thanks alone those services for which Somerset
demanded payment. It was in vain that the Queen pro¬
tested that they were all preparing a scourge for their

16

THE RISING STAR

backs. ‘I know your master better than you all,’ she told
Abbot, ‘for if this young man be once brought in, the first
persons that he will plague must be you that labour for
him. The King will teach him to despise and hardly intreat
us all that he may seem to be beholden to none but
himself.’ 1

How far her words were true, only time could show,
but at the moment her counsels were overriden, and on
St. George’s Day, 1615, the Queen and Prince Charles
presented themselves in the King’s bedchamber, instruc¬
tions having been given to Villiers to be near at hand.
When the Queen saw her opportunity he was called in,
and she, asking the Prince for his sword, knelt before the
King and humbly prayed him to do her that special favour
‘to knight this noble gentleman, whose name is George, in
honour of George, whose feast is now kept’. 1 The King’s
ready concession leads us to the conclusion that he was
well informed of the proposal beforehand, and that the
whole affair was one of those elaborate inventions which
delighted his heart.

On the same day, Villiers was appointed Gentleman of
the Bedchamber, and received a grant of one thousand
pounds a year for the better support of his new position.
His foot seemed firmly planted upon the ladder of success.
His ‘adopted father’, Archbishop Abbot, displayed the
keenest interest in the fortunes of his young protege, and
at the end of 1615 wrote him a most affectionate letter of
advice. It was addressed ‘to my very loving son, Sir George
Villiers’, and exhorted him to do his best to act consci¬
entiously in the important role which had been given him.
‘I charge you as my son,’ said Abbot, ‘to be diligent and
pleasing to your master, and to be wary that at no man’s
instance you press him with many suits, because they are

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections, i, p. 456. a Ibid.

17

B

BUCKINGHAM

not your friends who urge these things on you, but have
private ends of their own which are not fit for you.’ 1
Excellent counsel, could the young favourite but have
managed to follow it, and to realize that in the crowd of
greedy sycophants, so soon to flock around him, there
was not one who would be a real friend in an hour of
crisis.

Although Villiers had advanced in the royal favour, the
King still retained much of his old affection for Somerset,
and would have liked to see the establishment of a friend¬
ship between him and the younger man, which led him to
suggest to Villiers that he might gain much from the
patronage of Somerset. The latter had no cause to love
Villiers, and up to the present the relationship between
them had been of the coolest. But in obedience to the
King’s desire, Villiers now approached the Earl in a
friendly spirit, only to have his overtures insolently re¬
jected. Somerset’s reply was frank enough — T will none
of your service, and you shall none of my favour. I will,
if I can, break your neck, and of that be confident.’ 4

It is amazing how eagerly, at this period, the position of
favourite was coveted. It carried no shameful stigma, it
was worth endless struggle and intrigue, and once attained,
had all the public recognition of a high office of state. But
to be a fallen favourite was nothing short of a catastrophe.
By the beginning of 1616, it seemed that this was to be the
fate of Somerset, who was accused — rightly or wrongly
will probably never be known — of being involved in the
Borgian drama of the Overbury murder. * In spite of his
vigorous protests of innocence, his downfall was forecast.
All eyes were turned to Villiers as the rising star.

From this point, James began to heap honours upon him

1 Goodman, Court of King James , i, p. 160.

2 Sir Anthony Weldon, Court and Character of King James, p. 98.

* See ‘Truth brought to Light by Time*, in Somers* Tracts, 11, p. 304.

18

THE RISING STAR

with bewildering rapidity. On New Year’s Day, 1616, by
way of a seasonal gift he bestowed on him the high office of
Master of the Horse. In the May following — which saw
the trial of Somerset — Villiers was received into the most
noble order of the Knights of the Garter, and granted more
lands to maintain the increased dignity. Rumour had it
that should Somerset sink in the disgrace which threatened
him, his lands at Sherborne were destined for the rising
favourite. At this moment, however, Villiers developed an
alarming illness which was suspiciously like smallpox, a
disease widely prevalent at that period. Rumours spread
abroad like wildfire that the new favourite’s good looks
would be spoiled and his place in the King’s affections
irretrievably lost. But fortune did not desert her favourite,
the illness turned out to be quite innocuous, and Villiers
continued to advance further and further in the regard of
his royal master.

Neither could Anne of Denmark resist for long the
winning ways of her husband’s favourite. She capitulated
entirely to his gay and courteous manners, and came to
regard him as a personal friend. During the August of
1616 James was again on progress, and at the end of the
month Anne was at Woodstock awaiting his arrival.
Whilst this rendezvous was in anticipation she wrote to
Villiers, then in attendance upon the King, in very familiar
strain, concluding with the assurance that ‘she would do
him any service in her power’. 1 Another remarkable letter
from Anne to the young favourite comments, with astonish¬
ing familiarity, upon his increasing influence with the King.
‘My Kind Dog,’ she begins, using James’s favourite form of
address, ‘you do very well in lugging the sowe’s eare,* and
I thank you for it, and would have you do so still, upon
condition that you continue a watchful dog to him and be

1 Ellis, Original Letters, Series I, vol. in, p. 100. 1 The King’s.

19

BUCKINGHAM

always true to him. So wishing you all happiness . . . 5l
Villiers had secured a powerful ally.

About this time, too, the foundations of a more signifi¬
cant friendship were laid. The King’s only surviving son,*
Charles, was a shy, reserved youth, not prone to making
easy acquaintances, and at first seems to have cordially
disliked his father’s new favourite. On one occasion James
had to box his ears for turning a water spout upon the
splendidly immaculate figure of Villiers! At other times,
it is recorded, the Prince and the favourite exchanged hot
words, and once, during an altercation at tennis, Villiers
raised his hand as if to strike Charles. The reasons for this
early antipathy are not difficult to find, and more probably
resulted from the Prince’s character, which in the course of
a lonely childhood had developed bewildering complexities,
than from Villiers, who could have no possible motive for
alienating his future sovereign.

Charles’s early years had been spent in the contemplation
of excellencies in others, which it seemed that he was
destined never to achieve. He was a very delicate child, and
few expected that he would ever reach manhood. A slight
impediment in his speech rendered him tongue-tied and
painfully sensitive in the presence of his fellows. On the
other hand, Elizabeth and Henry, his sister and brother,
were as healthy and normal as could be desired. Charles
adored his sister, and developed a strong hero worship for
Henry, whom he loved to watch displaying the virile glory
of his young manhood in the tennis court or the tilting yard.
One day, the young Charles would tell himself, he would
conquer his weakly limbs and do likewise. There was no
trace of bitterness or jealousy, however, in his feelings
towards the brother who was so far above him, but merely

1 Ellis, Original Letters t Series I, vol. ill, p. zoi.

8 His elder son Henry had died of a fever in 1612.

20

THE RISING STAR

a rather pathetic desire for a little devotion in return for
all the love he was ready to pour out. One of the earliest
letters Charles ever wrote is a curiously pitiful little note
offering to give Henry any of his toys if only he will love
him in return. 1 From childhood, evidently, Charles had a
sensitive nature which would never thrive amid the hubbub
of the crowded court, but would rather seek out some strong,
determined personality about whom its tendrils might be
entwined. Yet, after Henry had died, and Elizabeth
married, poor ‘Baby Charles’, as they had called him,
seemed destined to loneliness. His father was usually in the
grip of his favourites, who had seldom appealed to the shy
young prince. On Villiers’s first appearance at court, as
we may well imagine, the contrast Charles saw between this
tall, handsome, self-assured young mam and himself—
inexperienced, shy and already showing signs of attaining
no great stature — must have made him ready to hate his
father’s new favourite. Villiers, however, had no desire
for the Prince’s hatred and laid himself out to captivate
Charles’s affections. Soon Charles succumbed completely
to the winning ways and easy charm of Villiers, and began
to see in him a possible friend. Gradually he conceived an
affection for ‘Steenie’, as he was soon calling him, which
came to fill his whole horizon. To him he transferred that
passionate devotion he had felt for Elizabeth and the hero
worship he had given Henry. After a while Damon and
Pythias were not more dear to each other than ‘Baby
Charles’ and his ‘Sweet Steenie’. It was a friendship which
was to bear significant fruit in the years to come.

Secure in the affections of King, Qjieen and Prince, and
backed by a large section of the court who hoped, no doubt,
for good things from this charming and apparently amiable
youth, Villiers continued to advance apace. On August

1 See Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, p. 92.

21

BUCKINGHAM

27th, 1616, in the presence of the Queen and the Prince,
the young Sir George, splendidly attired in a coat of red
velvet, was brought before His Majesty by the Earl of
Suffolk and Viscount Lisle. James thereupon honoured him
with the dual dignity of Baron Whaddon and Viscount
Villiers.

All the talk at court was now of the rising fortunes of
young Villiers. It was generally admitted to be a noble
gesture when he refused the offer of Sherborne, 1 part of the
estate of the fallen favourite, praying the King that his
fortunes should not be built upon the ruins of another’s.
James took care that this magnanimity should not be the
means of impoverishing his favourite, and lands to the
value of £80,000 were granted him in lieu of Sherborne.
Now men began to whisper of an Earldom for him, and
conjectures were rife as to what it would be.

Speculations were turned into certainty on January 5th,
1617, when, with little preliminary notice, in the Presence
Chamber at Whitehall, Sir George Villiers became the
Earl of Buckingham. The handsome young Earl must have
looked very splendid as he stood before his royal master,
in his robes and coronet, after his investiture. It was a high
dignity to have attained at the early age of twenty-four,
but James’s bounty knew no limit once he had started to
bestow favours.

By now, Villiers had become an indispensable companion
and servant to the King, and seldom was James to be seen
without his ‘Steenie’. In the presence of foreign
ambassadors he would pull his hair and kiss him, and the
handsome youth was always at the King’s right hand during
their audiences. So that there was little astonishment when,

•H , Ttere 18 811 opinion that Villiers was influenced by a current superstition that
ill fortune attended the possessors of this estate, in consequence of a curse pro¬
nounced by an early Bishop of Salisbury on all who should presume to possess it
in defiance of the rights of the see. Vide Gardiner, hi, p. 30.

22

THE RISING STAR

in February, 1617, James decided to make his position
official and advanced him to the rank of Privy Councillor.
It was said that Villiers was the youngest who had ever sat
at that board. About this time he commenced the policy,
which he was afterwards to pursue with too much diligence,
of securing the advancement of his own family. His mother
— now married to Sir Thomas Compton — worked
strenuously with him in this direction. Already she had
eyes on a brilliant match to be secured through George’s
influence for his elder brother John. Christopher, Bucking¬
ham’s younger brother, was given the important post of
Gendeman of the Bedchamber, and court rhymsters began
to publish such doggerel verses as the following:

Above in the skies shall Gemini rise,

And twins the court shall fester,

George shall back his brother Jack
And Jack his brother Kester. 1

Gradually Buckingham’s patronage was becoming in¬
creasingly powerful, and yet for a while his charm and
amiability made him loved by a large section of the court.
He gave no great encouragement to those who sought to
bribe him, for his liberal allowance of £15,000 a year
satisfied him at the moment. For money alone he never
showed any strong degree of covetousness. But it was more
th an imprudent for James to have placed the virtual
direction of affairs in the hands of one so inexperienced.
nharming as Buckingham might be in the role of courtier,
it would take years of patient study and experience to fill
the important position in the government of the state which
was now thrust upon him. To do him full justice, it was a
creditable desire to serve his master to the best of his
ability which led him to apply again and again to the

1 Nichols, Progresses of King James I, in, p. 244.

23

BUCKINGHAM

experienced statesman and philosopher, Sir Francis Bacon,
now Lord Keeper, for advice. Bacon was keenly interested
in the young favourite, and thought he saw in him a means
of lifting the government of the realm to higher planes than
those in which it had recently moved. In reply to the
request of young Villiers, Bacon wrote a letter outlining
for him the best method of procedure in almost any con¬
tingency which might confront him. This remarkable
epistle touched upon the conduct of affairs in every depart¬
ment of state, and endeavoured to steer the young favourite
through the dangerous shoals of court intrigue. There was
a word of warning for Buckingham, whose accession to
fortune had been so rapid. ‘You are as a new risen star,’
declared the wise old minister, ‘the eyes of all men are upon
you; let not your negligence make you fall like a meteor.’
He commended the favourite’s desire to serve his master
honestly, and offered him advice as to how to fill his
peculiar position: — ‘You are not only a courtier, but a
bed-chamber man, and so are in the eye and ear of your
master, but you are also a favourite, the favourite of the
time, and so are in his bosom also (For Kings and great
princes have had their friends, their favourites, their
privadoes in all ages: for they have their affections as well
as other men) ... I am convinced His Majesty hath cast
his eyes upon you, as finding you to be such as you should
be, or hoping to make you such as he would have you be;
for this I may say, without flattery, your outside promiseth
as much as can be expected from a gentleman.’ In con¬
clusion Buckingham was advised to deal justly and
summarily with the throng of suitors who were sure to
pester him for favours. To James he was to be ‘a good angel
and guide him, and be not a malus genius against him’. 1
Unfortunately, the extreme adulation which James was now

1 C a r A I . A . p. 37; Spedding, Letters and Life of Sir Francis Bacon, vi, p. *7.

24

THE RISING STAR

giving to his favourite was such as might have turned a
wiser head than Buckingham’s. With his royal master
doting upon him and inclining his ear to his counsels alone,
it was becoming increasingly difficult for Buckingham to
remember such sane advice as Bacon had just offered.

In the March of 1617 James decided that he would pay
a visit to his native land, and began his progress northward
with the spring, ‘warming the country as he went with the
glories of his court; taking such recreations by the way as
best might beguile the days and make them shorter but
lengthen the nights. There was hawking, hunting and
horse racing by day, with feasting, masquing and da.nr. ing
by night.’ 1 Naturally James was accompanied by Bucking¬
ham, whom he could scarcely bear out of his sight, and
whose splendid accomplishments as a courtier would wile
away many a weary hour for his royal master.

In Scotland Buckingham’s winning manners captivated
all hearts, and the new favourite was surprisingly popular,
considering the fact that he had so recently displaced one of
Scottish nationality. But few could resist him when he set
out to be charming, and during this visit, we are told, ‘he
did carry himself with singular sweetness and temper’.
Apparently, he was continually in the intimate company of
James, for his letters to Bacon, who had not accompanied
the court, reveal close knowledge of the King ’s personal
well-being. On the eighteenth of April he wrote that ‘His
Majesty, though he were a litde troubled with a litde pain
in his back, which hindered his hunting, is now, God be
thanked, very well and as merry as ever he was’. Two
months later, he reported from Edinburgh that ‘His
Majesty, God be thanked, is very well and safely returned
from his hunting’. 1

1 Wilson, Life and Reigr^ of James I, p. 708.

# Nichols, Progresses of James J, m, p. 255.

25

BUCKINGHAM

On June 3rd news reached England that more honour
had been heaped upon the Earl of Buckingham, who had
been sworn of the Scottish Privy Council. Four days after¬
wards Scotland had proof of his high favour with the King,
for, in the royal state procession to the Parliament at
Edinburgh, there was ‘not an English Lord on horseback
but my Lord of Buckingham, who waited upon the King ’s
stirrup’. 1

During Buckingham’s absence in Scotland, his mother
was exerting all her efforts at home to secure a brilliant
marriage for his brother, John. Many private fortunes
were destined to be entwined in the tangled skein of events
which now ensued, and those at court were to have a taste
of the increasing omnipotence of Buckingham. The
trouble started when Sir John Villiers — who did not
share his brother’s personal charm — elected to fall in
love with Frances, the beautiful young daughter of Sir
Edward Coke. The latter, smarting under the double
humiliation of dismissal from the Council Table and from
his office of Chief Justice, saw in the proposed match a
heaven-sent opportunity for his reinstatement. His wife,
however, did not share his ambitions and was determined
that an obnoxious marriage should not be forced upon her
daughter. Sir Edward wrote to Buckingham and secured
his approval and assurance of support in the proposed
match, and the negotiations proceeded. Lady Compton,
Buckingham’s mother, nearly upset the whole affair by
commencing to haggle miserably over the marriage portion
to accompany the girl. At first Coke refused to pay the sum

£10,000 which she demanded, but apparently reflected
that he could not buy the favourite’s support too dear and
decided to accept her terms.

The affair now came to the ears of Sir Francis Bacon,

1 Nichols, Progresses of James /, iii, p. 345.

26

THE RISING STAR

who saw in it merely an attempt on the part of Coke to
regain his lost positions by playing upon Buckingham’s
family affections. Since the King and the Earl were both
absent, he presented his views to the Secretary of State,
Sir Ralph Winwood, who was, it transpired, hotly in
favour of Coke. An open quarrel between the Secretary
and the Lord Keeper resulted, news of which reached the
ears of James and Buckingham in a grossly distorted form.
The latter, whose relations with Bacon had so far been
most cordial, underwent a sharp revulsion of feeling on
hearing that the Lord Keeper was apparently crossing his
wishes.

Events were quickened by the action of Lady Hatton,
Coke’s wife, who, pretending that her daughter was already
contracted to the Earl of Oxford — he being safely out of
the way in Italy — carried her off to a place of safety.
Coke applied to Bacon for a warrant to recover his daughter
and was refused. At the same time Bacon wrote to Buck¬
ingham advising him strongly against supporting the match
or allowing his brother to marry into a family where such
domestic strife existed. In the meantime Sir Edward Coke
had taken the law into his own hands and with his son,
‘fighting Clem Coke’, and about a dozen servants, burst
open the door of the house where his daughter was lodged
and carried her off in his coach.

The last act in the drama took place when all the princi¬
pal actors were brought up before the Council, and the
young lady was sent to the house of the Attorney-General.
By July 18th some sort of an agreement had been reached
between her parents and she was sent to Hatton House,
with orders that the Lady Compton and her son should
have access to ‘win and wear her’. 1

For a week London court circles had buzzed with the

1 Birch, Court and Times of James I, I, p. 24.

27

BUCKINGHAM

gossip of these events, and the news which reached Buck¬
ingham in Scotland produced in him a mood which was
far from amiable. The responsibility for the Council’s
interference lay at Bacon’s door, and, despite their previous
friendship, Buckingham did not hesitate to write angrily to
him — ‘In this business of my brother’s that you over¬
trouble yourself with,’ he curtly declared, ‘I understand
from London by some of my friends that you have carried
yourself with much scorn and neglect both towards myself
and my friends.’ 1 It seemed now that Buckingham was
destined, by his own actions, to lose his friends as soon as
they crossed him in any way. This unfortunate trait in his
character was no doubt fostered by the attitude of the King
who, instead of correcting this fault at the beginning, chose
to range himself on Buckingham’s side and share his resent¬
ments. In excusing his recent conduct to James, Bacon had
remarked that his affection for Buckingham was purely
parent-like, and that his advice to him had proceeded from
a fear that in the height of his fortune the favourite might
feel too secure. With cold displeasure the King replied
that this attitude could only proceed from jealousy and an
inadequate appreciation of Buckingham’s discretion. This
immoderate affection on the part of James was one of the
most dangerous forms of flattery and was already develop¬
ing in his favourite’s hitherto open and lovable disposition
a vanity which, like that of the spoilt child, could bear no
reverses.

By September the royal court was again in London, and
on the 29th the marriage of Sir John Villiers and Frances
Coke was celebrated at Hampton Court. The bride was
given away by the King himself. Her father was extremely
jovial, for on the previous day he had been reinstated at
the Council Table. It is said that, on this occasion, James

1 Spkddino, Letters and Life, vi, p. *37.

28

THE RISING STAR

made the following remarkable statement, excusing his own
behaviour and his love of his favourite. ‘I, James,’ he
began, ‘am neither a god nor an angel, but a man like any
other. Therefore, I act like a man, and confess to loving
those dear to me more than other men. You may be sure
that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else,
and more than you who are here assembled. I wish to
speak on my own behalf, and not to have it thought to be
a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same and therefore I can¬
not be blamed. Christ had his John and I have my George.’ 1

On the next New Year’s Day the King gave a further
demonstration of this affection by conferring the high rank
of Marquis upon Buckingham, a title which he had not
bestowed since his coming to the throne. The creation was
carried out privately, by letters patent delivered into
Buckingham’s own hands, in the presence of a few noble¬
men, amongst whom was the Lord Keeper, Bacon. Buck¬
ingham rarely bore malice, and, following a complete
apology, Bacon had been received back into favour. But
the old frank relationship between them had been irre¬
trievably destroyed.

It is difficult to convey an adequate impression of how
completely Buckingham had come to be the pivot upon
which affairs of court and state were to turn. New appoint¬
ments, the continuance in high positions, all depended
upon his favour. Archbishops, Bishops, Judges, Generals,
and hosts of small officials daily petitioned him until
eventually the press of this business became so overwhelm¬
ing that he delegated part of it to his brother. At the be¬
ginning of 1616 Bacon had warned him that this was bound
to happen, and had given him some excellent advice as to
how to deal with those who sought his favour. He coun¬
selled him never to advance those who were incompetent

1 Gardiner, iii, p. 98.

29

BUCKINGHAM

for their posts merely because they were his creatures. On
the contrary, he besought him to countenance in all
spheres only those who showed ability. Had Buckingham
followed this advice much of his subsequent misfortune
might have been averted, but his nature was one that could
brook no opposition. Vanity was his cardinal sin, the one
trait which ruined a noble and generous nature. Conse¬
quently, all important offices he either filled himself or
delegated to some incompetent suitor who had secured his
favour either by servility or by an opportune marriage with
one of his numerous female relatives. This latter method
of rising to power had become a scandal in the court, and
a contemporary writes, in vitriolic vein, ‘Happy is he that
can get a kinswoman: it is the next way to thriving offices
or some new swelling title. The King, that never cared
much for women, had his court swarming with the Mar¬
quis’s kindred so that little ones would dance up and down
the privy lodgings like fairies.’ 1

Although he showed little trace of meanness or grasping
avarice, the favourite demanded his payment for advancing
suitors to high places in something more than money. The
fact that he frequently rejected large bribes and ad¬
vanced one who could, perhaps, afford no bribe at all
becomes less noble upon a closer examination. It must be
borne in mind that, for the next few years, whenever a
vacancy occurred in a post of any importance, James and
Buckingham invariably chose the candidate whose views
most nearly coincided with their own. Once appointed to
the office the nominee was expected to comply absolutely
with Buckingham’s wishes. Although his ability as a
statesman was negligible, the favourite him self had the
highest possible conviction of his own wisdom and capacity,
and took his task of government much more seriously than

1 Wilson, Life and Reign of James, p. 737.

3 °

THE RISING STAR

is generally realized. But he could never tolerate advice if
it ran counter to his own views, and consequently all the
talented men of the rising generation — men after the
stamp of Wentworth, Pym, Hampden or Eliot — with very
decided opinions of their own, were driven to swell the ranks
of the opposition. Under such a system the King and his
favourite gradually became more and more isolated and,
could they but have seen it, had, in their refusal to share
responsibility, merely increased the weight of the burden
they themselves must carry.

3i

CHAPTER II

‘THE MAN WHOM THE KING
DEL'IGHTETH TO HONOUR 5

From Christmas to Twelfth Night the royal court made
merry. This was its high season of festivity, and gaiety was
the order of the day — and night. Buckingham’s accession
to the dignity of Marquis had taken place amid the usual
round of revelry, and for him this season was an especially
triumphant one. By day, the young courtiers would spend
their time exhibiting their prowess in the tennis court or the
tilting yard, and here- Buckingham won distinction among
his fellows. As he stood bareheaded after such exercise, his
eyes flashing and his face flushed, the full beauty of his
handsome figure and fresh complexion was clearly dis¬
played. Sir Simonds D’Ewes, watching ‘the beloved Mar¬
quis’, as he calls him, on one of these occasions, remarks ‘I
saw everything in him full of delicacy and handsome
features’. 1

By night there would be banquets, masques and dances,
most of them all the livelier for the favourite’s presence.
Indeed many a function was saved from dullness by his
brilliant dancing. He could take the floor and perform the
most intricate steps with all the ease and grace of a born
courtier. The court was the stage of his greatness; his ele¬
gance and proficiency as a cavalier gave him the star role.

In keeping with his general magnificence, the banquets
given by Buckingham were usually expected to be most
splendid affairs. And seldom were his guests disappointed.
On January 3rd, 1618, to celebrate his recent acquisition

1 Simonds D’Ewes. Autobiography, i, p. 166.

32

‘THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR’

of a marquisate, Buckingham invited the King and the
whole court to a magnificent feast. It was a distinguished
gathering, and the general verdict was that even the
Marquis had surpassed himself. James could not find
sufficient words wherewith to express his high pleasure with
both the meat and the master — an unusual state for the
royal speechmaker! The supper alone cost six hundred
pounds, and was supervised by Sir Thomas Edmondes
who, having lately been as ambassador to France, took
care that it was as thoroughly French as possible. The ex¬
travagance of the banquet may readily be imagined from
the tit-bit of information that there were ‘seventeen dozen
of pheasants and twelve partridges in a dish throughout’. 1
To express his high degree of pleasure the King rose and
proposed the following toast to the assembled company:
‘My Lords, I drink to you all: I know you are all welcome
to my George, and he that doth not pledge him with all his
heart, I would the devil had him for my part.’’

On Twelfth Night the seasonal festivities were wound up
with a masque — the ‘Vision of Delight’ — remarkable
chiefly for the fact that here Prince Charles, in the company
of Buckingham, appears as a masquer for the first time.
The masque was one of the court’s favourite forms of enter¬
tainment, being a form of mummery with all the delightful
pageantry of gorgeous scenery, beautiful costumes, rich
jewels, and elegant verse. If, as sometimes happened, the
poet’s invention should prove rather dull, the general
splendour would atone much for his lack of originality.
‘The Revels’ which usually came somewhere near the end
of the masque were particularly popular, for here the whole
court could accompany the masquers in a general dance.
The masques were usually gay, and often brilliant pageants,

1 Birch, Court and Times of James I, I, p. 453.

a Cal . S. P. Dom . Games I), 1611-18, p. 511.

G 33

BUCKINGHAM

especially where Inigo Jones and Ben Jonson had combined
their talents to provide truly royal entertainment. As we
may well imagine, Buckingham was passionately fond of
these festivities, and almost every masque provided at the
royal court, during his presence, saw him taking some part
in the production.

In view of the place Buckingham had come to occupy in
the Kin g ’s affections, it seemed futile to plot his overthrow.
Yet a band of intriguing courtiers now essayed that very
task, with no great success. Towards the end of February,
a company of young court gallants, who had been forcing
themselves upon James very much of late, suffered a sharp
rebuff when the Lord Chamberlain conveyed to their
leader, young Monson, the King’s message that ‘he did not
like of his forwardness, and presenting himself so continually
about him’. 1 James requested that Monson would for¬
bear the royal presence, but the Lord Chamberlain went
further and administered the private advice that he had
better forbear the court. So much for the hopes and
aspirations of those who had spent their time setting up
this new idol, and washing his hands and face with posset
curd that his complexion might rival that of Buckingham!

One Saturday night towards the end of June, Bucking¬
ham was again giving one of his magnificent banquets.
This was a particularly famous occasion, and the supper
has come to be known as the ‘Friends’ Feast’ — or some¬
times the ‘Prince’s Feast’. Apparently Prince Charles had
offended his father deeply and had sought the powerful
intervention of the favourite to bring about a reconciliation.
‘I pray you to commend my most humble service to His
Majesty,’ he begged, ‘and tell him I am very sorry to have
done anything that may offend him.’ 1 James could refuse

1 Nichols, Progresses of James I, m, p. 468.

a Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, in, p. 102.

34

‘THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR 5

his beloved Marquis practically nothing, Charles was for¬
given, and this feast was given specially to cement the
reconciliation. The King and the Prince were both present,
and between them and Buckingham a kind of triumvirate
was established. On this evening was given a further
demonstration of the high esteem in which James held his
favourite, and the whole family of Villiers. He conferred
a great honour upon their house when, at the end of the
dinner, he rose and came personally to the table where
many of them were seated, and drank a health to the noble
family which, he professed, he desired to advance before
all others. For himself, he declared, he lived to that end
alone, and took this opportunity of commanding his
posterity ‘to advance that House above all others what¬
soever 5 . 1

By way of a practical demonstration of these sentiments,
Lady Compton, the Marquis’s mother, was raised on
July ist to the dignity of Countess of Buckingham. To
the general amusement she refused to share her title with
her husband, whom she cordially detested, and he remained
a mere knight. The new Countess was very jealous of her
power and endeavoured to interfere in all her son’s affairs.
James was driven to warn her that her continued meddling
could only result in her son’s detriment. ‘Her hand must
be in all transactions, both of Church and State,’ writes
an annalist, whilst Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador,
satirically reported to Philip ‘That there was never more
hope of England’s conversion to Rome than now; for
there are more prayers offered to the mother than the
son.’ 1

As may be imagined, it was now a topic of much specula¬
tion at court whether the Marquis would make the great

3 Birch, Court and Times of James I, n, p. 78.

2 Wilson, Life and Reign of James I, p. 728.

35

BUCKINGHAM

decision to marry. He had evidently sown his wild oats to
some extent, but there seems little reason to conclude from
these stories of his youthful indiscretions that he was the
licentious monster he has so often been painted. We can
be in no doubt that Buckingham liked the ladies, and his
handsomeness and charm must have won him many hearts.
Such antics as his ‘winking and smiling at comely and
beautiful young women’ 1 during Divine Service, which so
greatly disturbed D’Ewes’s sense of propriety, seem to us
litde more than an effervescence of youthful spirits.

There were, apparently, more questionable episodes, but
it is dangerous to place too much reliance upon the
malicious tales of chroniclers whose bitter anti-royalist
views are well known. Such a writer declares venomously
that Buckingham, aided and abetted by James, was
responsible for the fall from virtue of more than one
beautiful maiden.* Another contemporary tells us that
Buckingham at this time ‘looked upon the whole race of
women as inferior things, and used them as if the sex were
one, best pleased with all’, giving stories of his visits to
‘wanton beauties’.*

It is most probable that during these early years the
Marquis did have his amours, but they seem to have been
managed quite discreedy. Taking into account the
licentiousness and immorality of the age, and of James’s
court in particular, the evidence against Bnr. king ha.rn in
this direction is by no means damning, and it is probably
through fiction, rather than fact, that later ages have seen
in him a vicious, sexual creature. When he did eventually
marry, he was to prove a kind husband and father, and
his wife loved him devotedly to the end. At this time, how-

1 Simonds D’Ewes. Autobiography, i, p. 389.

* See The Divine Catastrophe of the House of Stuart, by Sm Edward Pbyton.

Wilson, Life and Reign of James I, p. 728. It is significant to notice that these
stones are followed by the tale of Buckingham’s enticement of Rutland's daughter,
for the unreliability of which see below, p. 41.

36

‘THE KING DELI GHTETH TO HONOUR’

ever, marriage did not seem to attract him — probably be¬
cause he knew of the popular impression that the favourite
would lose his place in the King’s affections should he have
the misfortune to fall in love and marry. In this case,
James himself dispelled that illusion by intimating that he
wished Buckingham would take a wife, no doubt desiring
the honours he had conferred upon his favourite to be per¬
petuated. At this, great was the angling for such a splendid
catch, and in the January of 1619 Lady Hatton gave a
magnificent supper party followed by a play. Buckingham
was the guest of honour, and the wily hostess had made
Diana Cecil, one of Lord Burghley’s daughters, Mistress of
the Feast, in the hope that the Marquis might cast an eye
of favour upon her. But Buckingham emerged from the
festivities quite unimpressed with the great Diana, and it
seemed that he was likely to prove but a slippery catch.
Finally rumours began to float abroad that the Marquis’s
affections had been captivated by the lovely Lady Katherine
Manners, daughter of the Earl of Rutland. This, it was
whispered, might cause some trouble, for the lady and her
family were well known Papists, and the King would cer¬
tainly never allow his favourite to marry a recusant.

But for the present, at any rate, nothing happened, and
it seemed that Buckingham was shy of embarking upon the
perilous seas of matrimony.

Meanwhile, his affection for his royal master was on the
increase and he accompanied him everywhere, being now
virtually one of the royal family. To show his love for the
Marquis, James dedicated to him his newly published
volume of Meditations on the Lord's Prayer. A more public
honour awaited him, and one which was to cause much
heartburning among those in high position. At the be¬
ginning of 16x9 the King had told his favourite that the
present Lord High Admiral, the old Earl of Nottingham,

37

BUCKINGHAM

had become utterly incapable of filling his post. He was
eighty-three, and his powers were naturally failing him.
The administration of the Navy was in a shocking condition,
and a programme of reform was long overdue. The King
suggested to Buckingham that he should take over the
office of Admiral, but at first the Marquis hung back,
pleading his youth and inexperience. Eventually he was
persuaded into accepting the post by those who told him
that his influence with the King would result in the benefit
of the Navy. James managed to persuade the old Earl to
give up his position, and gave him by way of recompense
£3000 in a lump sum, and £1000 a year for the remainder
of his life. Loud were the criticisms of Buckingham, who
was now, so to speak, ‘doubly beneficed’, 1 being both Lord
High Admiral and Master of the Horse. Yet Buckingham
filled this post better than his predecessor had done.
Although not able to do much himself, he was not averse
to allowing the Navy Commissioners to work hard in the
direction of reform. Under the new Navy Commission,
competent clerks were employed to go into the details of
the administration, much of the unnecessary expenditure
was reduced, existing docks were repaired and new ones
built, whilst a few extra ships — which were certainly badly
needed — were constructed. At the end of the year, when
the King visited Deptford to see the two new ships built by
the Navy Commissioners, he congratulated the new Ad¬
miral who had reduced the naval expenses from £60,000
t° £30,ooo a year, and yet built two new ships and repaired
the old. He called the new ships, to commemorate the
occasion, Buckingham’s Entrance and Reformation. The Navy
required much more attention, however, than Buckingham
could give it. The number of good ships .was still hopelessly
insufficient, and the hastily impressed mariners with whom

1 Birch, Court and Times of James 1 , n, p. 133.

38

'THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR’

they were filled were useless in an encounter and ran away
at every opportunity. Willing as Buckingham might be to
do his best, the post of Lord High Admiral required, not an
inexperienced youth, but an older man well versed in naval
administration.

The revenues attendant upon the Marquis’s new office
were quite considerable, and within a few months his
private fortunes received a further strengthening. During
the whole of 1618 the Queen’s health had been very feeble.
Although only forty-five she was suffering from dropsy, and
it was the general opinion that she had not long to live.
On February 6th, 1619, the King had gone to Newmarket
on pleasure, and whilst there was overtaken by a serious
illness. He was not fit to be brought to London when, on
February 22nd, his wife’s condition reached a dangerous
climax. On March 1st everyone knew that there was no
hope, and Anne herself asked for her son to come to her.
At one o’clock the following morning she realized that her
end was near and, sending for Charles again, gave him her
blessing. At four o’clock she passed away from a world
where, politically, she had exercised no influence. Her loss
would be more seriously felt in the sphere of court life,
where she had pursued her gay round of pleasure. Her
husband did not seem to be deeply upset by her death.
Indeed, for a few days in early March his own illness had
excluded all other considerations, and it was feared that
he was dying, following a relapse which had occurred
during his visit to a horse race at Newmarket. He sent for
Charles, Buckingham and some of the chief nobility, and
gave his son his dying commands, recommending him to
stand by the faithful Buckingham, also Lord Digby and
the Duke of Lennox. But James recovered and June saw
him seated in his favourite palace at Theobalds with his feet
plunged in the carcass of a newly-killed deer. This, some-

39

BUCKINGHAM

one had told him, would cure the weakness which still
existed in his legs.

During the King’s illness Buckingham had never left his
master’s side, and upon his recovery, James decided to
reward his favourite substantially for his assiduous care.
As soon as the King had come up to London, the Queen’s
trunks and cabinets with all her rich jewels were brought
from Denmark House to Greenwich to be delivered to
James. After examining them, the King bestowed a con¬
siderable portion of the jewels upon Buckingham, whose
love of precious gems was remarkably strong. In addition,
he received the Keepership of Denmark House, the late
Queen’s residence, and a further gift of £1200 in lands.
Court gossip declared that the Marquis might have such
grants from James any time he pleased.

At the beginning of 1620 Buckingham was seriously con¬
sidering marriage with Lady Katherine Manners. Although
Katherine was in love with Buckingham and he with her,
she was loth to change her religion for any consideration
whatsoever. Yet James refused to allow his favourite to
marry her unless she would publicly conform to the rites
of the English Church, and for a few months now the
situation had been at a deadlock. The lady was obdurate.
Buckingham’s mother had made things worse by commenc¬
ing a fin ancial bargain with the Earl in her son’s interest.
Her terms were high —£10,000 in ready money and land
to the value of £4000 a year.

These difficulties presented a unique opportunity to one
who had been waiting to secure advancement by courting
the favour of the Buckinghams. John Williams, the
youngest son of a Welsh gentleman, had studied at Cam¬
bridge and taken Holy Orders, securing the influence of
Bishop Montague for his creation as one of the royal
chaplains. His fluent talk had already attracted James,

40

‘THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR’

and all he needed was the patronage of the favourite to
assure his advancement. So he offered his services in the
present difficult situation.

The financial dispute became much less acute when
Rutland’s son died in the March of 1620, which made
Katherine his only child. The Earl was now willing to
bestow upon his daughter a dowry larger than she would
have received during her brother’s lifetime. There re¬
mained the religious problem, which Williams proceeded
to tackle with typical shrewdness. Approaching the lady
herself, he essayed her conversion by pointing out to her
the beauty of the catechism and the marriage service in the
English Prayer Book. He was wise enough not to alienate
her by denouncing the doctrines of the Church of Rome or
the Headship of the Pope. Eventually Lady Katherine,
who was deeply in love with Buckingham, declared that
the potent arguments of Williams had converted her and
that she was now ready to embrace the Anglican faith.

This apostasy incensed the Earl of Rutland and his fury
was only increased by the incident which followed. The
story spread abroad that Buckingham, too impatient to
wait for his love, tempted her to his lodging at Whitehall
and kept her there all night, much to the detriment of the
lady’s honour. 1 This was the garbled version of the truth
which reached the ears of Rutland, but his daughter had
quite a different story to tell. 1 According to her account
the Countess of Buckingham called for her on the day in
question and the two ladies spent the day together. In the
evening Katherine fell ill, so that she could not go home until
next morning. The moot point, of which her father refused
to be convinced, was that she had spent the night, not with
Buckingham, but with his mother.

1 This is the story told in Wilson, Life and Reign of James I, p. 7*8.

1 See Cal. S. P. Dom. (James I), 1619-23, p. 133-

41

BUCKINGHAM

Rutland was by now thoroughly enraged and considered
that his daughter had brought down scandal and disgrace
upon her honourable name, first by her desertion of its
faith and now by her immodest yielding to her lover’s
importunity. He vented his indignation upon Buckingham
in no measured terms, and, according to an Italian, an
open affray was only narrowly prevented by the Prince.
After his wrath had cooled a little, the Earl resorted to the
channel of correspondence and wrote to Buckingham re¬
questing that the marriage should take place at once in
vindication of his daughter’s good name. To this letter the
Marquis replied scathingly that only her father’s unwar¬
ranted suspicions threatened the lady’s honour. His pride
revolted at being spoken to in such a manner, and perhaps,
he suggested haughtily, in view of what had taken place,
the Earl had better bestow his daughter elsewhere. In
conclusion he added — ‘I never thought before to have
seen the time when I should need to come within the com¬
pass of the law by stealing a wife against the consent of her
parents, considering the favour that it pleases His Majesty,
though undeservedly, to bestow upon me.’ 1

The result of all this parley was that Lady Katherine
openly conformed to the rites of the Church of England
and on May 16th the two were married by Williams. The
wedding took place privately at Lumley House, a mansion
near Tower Hill, there were no celebrations, and the only
guests were the King and the bride’s father. As a reward
for his services Williams received the Deanery of West¬
minster.

A splendid setting for his bride had been prepared by
Buckingham, who had recently purchased the estate of
Burley-on-the-Hill. This mansion he had quickly trans¬
formed. Lady Katherine had known the grandeur of

1 Goodman, Court of King James, iz, p. 191.

4a

‘THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR’

Belvoir Castle, the famous seat of the Earls of Rutland, and
the Marquis was determined that her new home should
not fall one degree short of the old — if anything, that it
should be even more magnificent. Eds artistic taste quickly
turned Burley House into one of the most beautiful
dwellings in the country. 1 He had a passion for lovely
furnishings, sumptuous hangings and artistic treasures.
Throughout his life he spent fabulous sums upon artistic
masterpieces, for which his agents were continually scour¬
ing the continent. His mansions must have been veritable
treasure houses, for many of the pictures in his possession
were priceless. We are told that he paid £10,000 for those
collected for him by Rubens, with whom he later became
very intimate. Sir Henry Wotton, during his residence as
ambassador in Venice, procured many splendid treasures
for Buckingham. The list of his collection at the time of his
death included nineteen pictures by Titian, twenty-one by
Bassano, thirteen by Paul Veronese and thirteen by
Rubens. It is said that at one time Buckingham refused an
offer of £7000 for one magnificent picture, the ‘Ecce Homo’
by Titian. Unfortunately, like so many rare treasures, his
valuable collection was lost to England during the Civil
Wars,* the greatest part finding its way to the gallery of
the Archduke Leopold at Prague.

But as yet Merry England was unshadowed by any Civil
Wars, and in the August of 1621 King James was again
enjoying one of his frequent progresses, and paying a visit
to his favourite in his new home at Burley. As he passed
through the rich vale of Catmos to the beautiful mansion,
the extreme loveliness of his surroundings must have made

1 Burley was burnt to the ground by the Parliament forces in 1645.

8 Buckingham’s son, George Villiers, 2nd Duke of Buckingham, was compelled
by the Parliamentary forces to flee the country in 1648. To obtain money for his
support he had to sell his father’s pictures - then adorning the walls of York House -
at Antwerp. They were conveyed to him by a private servant, Mr. John Traylman.
Mr. Duart of Antwerp bought some and the Archduke the rest. See Biographica
Britanrdca t vi, p. 4051.

43

BUCKINGHAM

a strong appeal to the King. The house was perfectly
situated, standing high upon the crest of a hill, with a
princely park and woods adjoining. Both inside and out¬
side its beauty was remarkable, and James could not
sufficiently express the fullness of his admiration.

A Kenilworth-like reception awaited the King. Bucking¬
ham had laid himself out to surpass all records, and Ben
Jonson had been employed to compose a splendid masque
in James’s especial honour. Buckingham himself had
composed some verses of welcome which were presented
to the King, probably in writing, upon his crossing the
threshold for the first time. In flattering vein, they ex¬
pressed Buckingham’s appreciation of the honour of this
royal visit:

Sir, you have ever shin’d upon me bright,

But now you strike and dazzle me with light,

You, England’s radiant Sunne, vouchsafe to grace
My house, a spheare too little and too base.

My Burley, as a cabinet, contains

The gemme of Europe, which from golden veins

Of glorious Princes to this height is grown,

And joins their precious virtues all in one.

So delighted was James with this reception that he gave
himself up at frequent intervals during the visit to com¬
posing fitting verses wherewith he, in turn, might take his
adieu.

Jonson’s famous Masque of the Metamorphosed Gipsies 1
was presented at Burley on the evening of August 3rd, and
won instant success. It expresses this poet in his best vein,
and is a remarkable mixture of poetic skill, subtle flattery
and apt. satire. It was, of course, written with the primary
object of flattering the King and pleasing the assembled

1 Nichols, Progresses of James /, m, p. 672.

44

JAMES I OF ENGLAND

From the portrait by Daniel Mytens in the National Portrait

Gallery

By courtesy of the Xationaf Portrait Gallery

‘THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR’

company, in which Buckingham’s female relatives were
well represented.

The main theme of the whole Masque — Buckingham’s
gratitude to and appreciation of his royal master — was
indicated at once in the opening speech presented to the
King by a masquer entering in the character of the Porter.
It was an elaborate eulogy of welcome:

Welcome, o Welcome then and enter here
The house your bounty built 1 and still doth rear
With those high favours and those heap’d increases
Which shews a hand not grieved but when it ceases.
The Master is your creature, as the place
And every good about him is your Grace.

Whom, though he stand by silent think not rude,

But as a man turned all to gratitude

For what he ne’er can hope now to restore

Since, while he meditates one you pour one more.

The main characters in the Masque were the eight
Gipsies, and their Captain, which part was played by
Buckingham himself. After two rousing songs and dances
by the Gipsy troupe, the interest turned to fortune telling.
With great boldness, the Captain first approached the most
exalted member of the audience and, addressing him as
though completely ignorant of his identity, besought leave
to read his hand. Now, although the masquers were
masked, there is no reason to suppose that the audience
were likewise disguised, and in thus familiarly approaching
the Kin g , Buckingham was behaving in accordance with
his supposed character of gipsy, pretending that he could
not tell the station of his customer until informed by his
chiromantic art. He knew quite well that this little bit of
play-acting would thoroughly delight James.

1 Here the poet refers to the raising up of the Villiers family, and does not allude
to the literal building of the house.

45

BUCKINGHAM

After reading his royal birth in the King’s hand, the
Captain withdrew for a moment, to reappear, after a third
song by a female gipsy, and pursue his fortune. In an
elegant address he alluded to James’s well-meant en¬
deavours to preserve the peace of the Continent, telling the
King that, by his art, he was able:

To see the ways of truth you take
To balance business and to make
All Christian differences cease.

Or until the quarrel and the cause
You can compose, to give them laws
As arbiter of war and peace.

For this, of all the world you shall
Be styled James the Just.

These verses must have sounded sweet in the ears of him
who loved to cast himself in the role of Solomon! More
praise was yet to follow, and in extravagant language
the Captain proceeded to praise the King’s remarkable
generosity to himself and his house:

Myself a Gipsy here do shine
Yet are you maker, Sir, of mine.

Oh that confession could content
So high a bounty that doth know
No part of motion but to flow,

And giving never to repent.

The second gipsy now proceeded to tell the Prince’s
fortune, though happily for poor Charles he could not
really read the future! Afterwards, much to the delight of
the court, the other gipsies made appropriate and often
witty comments on the fortunes of Buckingham’s wife,
mother and others of the family 1 who were present.

1 They were the Countess of Rutland, the Countess of Exeter, Lady Purbeck,
and Lady Elizabeth Hatton,

46

‘THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR’

The fortune telling finished, the masque proceeded gaily
with hilarious songs and dances, in which the gipsies were
joined by country folk, and the wild strains of romany
music gave place to the popular melodies of country dances.
The whole pageant ended with dignified and highly sound¬
ing verses specially designed to leave, as it were, a pleasant
taste in the mouth of the King. Captain and gipsies com¬
bined in an elaborate panegyric of James, uttered in metre
which is a fine example of Jonson’s genius:

Look how the winds, upon the waves grown tame,
Take up land sounds upon their purple wings,

And, catching each from other, bear the same
To every angle of their sacred springs.

So will we take his praise and hurl his name
About the globe in thousand airy rings.

This masque so pleased the King that he had it repeated
two days later when he visited Belvoir Castle, and again
at Windsor in September, 1621. By way of matching
Buckingham’s verses of welcome he had composed similar
stanzas wherewith he might take his adieu:

The heavens that wept perpetually before,

Since we came hither show their smiling cheere;

This goodly house it smiles and all this store
Of huge provisions smiles upon us here.

The bucks and stagges in fall they seem to smile,

God send us a smiling boy in a while.

His poetic effort ended with a wish for the felicity and
fruitfulness of the happy couple — Buckingham and his
lady:

Thou, by whose heat the trees in fhiit abound,

Bless them with fhiit delicious sweet and fair
That may succeed them in their virtues rare.

47

BUCKINGHAM

It had been a splendid occasion, establishing beyond all
doubt the high degree of Buckingham’s favour with James.
Great, indeed, in the realm was this man whom it delighted
the King to honour. And politically his influence was
becoming more and more powerful.

CHAPTER III

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN
POLITICS

While James and Buckingham complacently indulged in
mutual compliments, the bulk of the nation was wondering
in what strange paths they were preparing to guide the
destinies of England. By this time it had become
evident that Buckingham’s counsels were to weigh more
heavily with the King than those of his Parliament. This
body had been assembled again in the January of 1621,
after an interval of seven years, since foreign affairs had
rendered its support indispensable to the King. Its mem¬
bers had come up to London full of hope and enthusiasm,
ready to throw the full weight of their patriotic fervour on
the King’s side, should his intentions with regard to the
war in Europe coincide with their own.

During the past three years a drama of religious passion
and political intrigue had swept the Continent, involving
the fortunes of more than one royal house in its disastrous
train. The small state of Bohemia had provided the spark
that was to light a pile of inflammable material gathered
together during the tortuous course of Reformation and
Counter-Reformation. The sturdy Protestant subjects of
Bohemia had, in 1618, rebelled against the efforts of the
Austrians to enforce upon them a Roman Catholic King
and government. The fierce struggle between the old and
the new faith was precipitated when the Bohemians finally
stormed the chamber where the unpopular government
held its meetings and hurled three of the Roman Catholic
members out of the window, which was almost eighty feet
d 49

BUCKINGHAM

from the ground. These gentlemen had the good fortune
to alight upon a dung heap little the worse for their fall,
although the Roman Catholics attributed their strange
salvation to the direct intervention of God and His Saints.
Known to history as the ‘defenestration of Prague’, this
event lighted the flames of one of the worst religious
struggles Europe had ever seen. Taking the bit between
their teeth, the Protestants of Bohemia now invited
Frederick, the Elector Palatine — James’s son-in-law —
to become their King. Although he had no vestige of right
to the throne and must have known that his action would
jeopardize his security in his own state, Frederick accepted
the Bohemian offer. ‘The Winter King’, as he was sneer-
ingly nicknamed by the Jesuits, had not long to reign. In
1620 his army was utterly defeated by the Imperial forces
under Tilly in the Battle of the White Mountain. By this
time Spanish forces from the Netherlands had overrun his
own territory in the Palatinate, and James’s unfortunate
son-in-law was a fugitive in Europe, driven to find security
with Maurice of Nassau at the Hague.

All eyes in Europe were now turned towards the British
King. How would he react to the misfortunes of his son-in-
law? It was well known that in 1604, with Cecil’s approval,
he had put an end to the long struggle between England
and Spain, and was now most strongly opposed to a re¬
opening of the breach. There had been a brief ebullition
of anti-Spanish feeling at the English Court in 16x8, after
the downfall of Somerset and the Catholic Howards, and
the new favourite was one of the hottest advocates of the
resumption of an Elizabethan scheme of hostilities and
reprisals against the Spaniard. But James’s ear was never
open to talk of war, Buckingham’s ardour was not long in
cooling, and by 1620 he was all in favour of the King’s idea’
of preserving the Spanish alliance. James, Buckingham,

50

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

and Count Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, held
secret conferences which were regarded askance by a
Protestant nation.

Actually James’s schemes were far more innocuous than
rumour represented them. The visionary idea which had
now captivated his imagination was that he could best aid
Frederick’s cause by effecting an alliance with Spain,
hoping thereby to gain the Spanish King’s help in enforcing
the Emperor to restore to the Elector his lands in the
Palatinate. James considered that Frederick had never had
any right to the Bohemian throne and refused to help him
in that ambition. Unfortunately, he showed an utter lack
of appreciation of the full force of British insularity when
he proposed to marry his heir to a Princess of Spain — the
Infanta Maria. Nor had he grasped the true principles of
the Spanish King when he supposed that, once connected
to a Protestant nation by marriage, he would abandon his
religion and his hereditary ally and pursue a war against
Austria for the restitution of the Palatinate to Frederick.
In the whole affair James seems to have been cursed by
hallucinations beyond which he could not — or would not —
see. Unfortunately Gondomar buoyed him up by holding
out false hopes which he knew could never be realized,
whilst Buckingham and the Prince gave him their full
support in the project of the Spanish marriage.

Meanwhile, the bulk of the nation saw affairs in a very
different light, for they had advanced little in their con¬
ception of foreign politics since the days of the great Queen
Bess, when England’s adventurous seamen had struck
terror into the heart of the Spaniard, and when a thorough¬
going hatred of Spain was the creed of every good Briton.
The growing Puritanism of the middle classes had identi¬
fied the hated power of Spain with the equally detested
domination of the Church of Rome, and against the

5 1

BUCKINGHAM

Spaniard they had by now built up a stubborn wall of
religious conviction and insular prejudice.

Moreover, they had been genuinely touched to the heart
by the sufferings of their co-religionists on the continent,
and were hotly in favour of taking up arms in their defence.
But to their unschooled imaginations the arch enemy of
Protestantism was the Spaniard, and in their estimation,
to crush Spain was to crush the power of Roman Catholi¬
cism. When James called together his Parliament in 1621,
it was to ask for funds to conduct a war in defence of the
Palatinate. Unfortunately, it was to be forcibly demon¬
strated that Kang and Parliament held diametrically
opposed views upon the form the war was to take. And as
for the proposed match with Spain, there could be no
doubt that it would cause an explosion of feeling in the
House of Commons, which would have visions of the Jesuits
again at large in the realm, and the proud Protestantism of
England brought under the domination of the Papal yoke.

But as James, regally attired in his purple robes, with a
rich crown upon his head, rode in state to open this eventful
Parliament, the predominating feelings were of gracious¬
ness on his side and loyalty on that of his subjects. Con¬
trary to his usual custom, he spoke most affectionately to
the crowds who lined the route to Westminster, waving his
hand and saying ‘God bless ye, God bless ye’. 1 Evidently
he felt the need of his subjects’ loyal support most strongly.
But forebodings were felt when he spoke particularly and
graciously bowed to Gondomar, the unpopular Spaniard.
The great favour in which the Buckingham clan still
flourished was also publicly demonstrated when the King
singled out the favourite’s mother and wife as the objects
of his courtesy, disregarding all the other great ladies who
lined the route.

1 Simonds D’Ewes, Autobiography, i, p. 170.

5 2

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

As Lords and Commons assembled in the Great Hall at
Westminster to hear what James had to say, a further
demonstration of Buckingham’s high station was afforded
in the fact that James kept him by his side all the time, in
token of the especial esteem in which he held him. We may
imagine that from time to time during his lengthy harangue
the garrulous Kang would glance up at the splendid figure
of his young Lord Admiral for confirmation or approval of
his views. It was Buckingham’s first encounter with Parlia¬
ment, but he was quite ready to be friendly to that body
and even entertained hopes of becoming its popular leader.
Unfortunately his favour with the King and increasing
power in the realm did not lead members to reciprocate
these sentiments, and beneath the surface there smouldered
some bitter resentment against him.

But at first members were much more concerned with
what James had to say than with their private prejudices.
They hung upon every word of his opening speech — and
it was wordy enough! After a typical preamble, setting
forth at great length his conception of the theories which
governed Kings and their Parliaments, James referred
vaguely to the burning question of the religious toleration
which, it was rumoured, would be given to Roman Catho¬
lics in the event of the Prince’s marriage to the Infanta.
His listeners had to be content with the enigmatic assurance
that whatever he might think fit to do in this matter would
in no way be detrimental to the Protestant religion. It was
a characteristic evasion of the issue.

Turning to the subject of supplies, James was much more
explicit. For ten years, he declared, Parliament had
granted him nothing, so that there could now be no reason
for a refusal of subsidies. Since Buckingham had taken up
the office of Lord High Admiral, great improvements had
taken place in the naval administration, which had resulted

53

BUCKINGHAM

in a considerable saving of expenditure, whilst in the House¬
hold and various departments of government similar re¬
forms and drastic retrenchments had taken place. Any
money which they might decide to grant him, James could
guarantee would not be dissipated.

Finally came what was to Parliament the foremost
question — the subject of the Palatinate. James assured his
listeners that he had spent endless money in embassies to
effect its restoration to his son-in-law. He wished for peace,
but preferred to treat for peace with a sword in his hand,
so urged Parliament to give him the necessary support to
enable him to assist the Protestant cause if all his negotia¬
tions were to fail. 1

It was a speech which said much — and yet nothing of
any importance. James simply wanted money to give him
a free hand in his own schemes, the details of which he was
evidently not prepared to divulge. The Commons must
have felt dissatisfied at the omissions in the King’s speech
but, hoping no doubt for further enlightenment, they re¬
ceived it with the greatest loyalty, determined not to cloud
the issue by any undue criticism. Never had James known
so united and so loyal a House. It was unfortunate that he
could not manage to deal honestly with it.

Parliament was willing — nay, anxious — to vote large
supplies for the pursuit of war on a grand scale against
Spain. But the Council of War had reported that an annual
amount of £900,000 was necessary to conduct the cam¬
paign in an adequate manner. Such a large sum the
Commons were by no means ready to vote without some
indication as to how it was to be used. James’s idea was to
unite with the Protestant Princes of Germany, and place
himself at the head of a movement to compel the Emperor
to restore the Palatinate. The Commons, on the other

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (James I), 1619-23, p. 217.

54

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

hand, would hear of nothing but a war for the utter
annihilation of Spain. The gracious tact of Elizabeth might
have guided these loyal, but mistaken, subjects in the way
they should go, but the undignified subterfuges in which
James chose to indulge first served to cool their ardour and
then turned their loyalty into fierce and bitter opposition.

Parliament must have known that James and Bucking¬
ham were very friendly with Gondomar, and this, coupled
with James’s reticence upon the subject of the Spanish war,
would inevitably arouse their suspicion. But, none the less,
as if to demonstrate their goodwill to the King, they voted
him a supply of £160,000, not enough to carry on a war,
they explained, but sufficient to ease his personal finances.
James was delighted, and rewarded them with many fair
words, but at the same time he was assuring Gondomar of
the constancy of his affection for the Spanish King. He
even went so far as to hold out hopes that he might be
ready to acknowledge the Pope as Head of the Church in
matters spiritual, if he would only abstain from interference
in temporal affairs. Gondomar took all this sceptically
enough, knowing full well that the restitution of the
Palatinate lay at the back of all this amiable discourse.
Without actually promising anything, he managed to hood¬
wink James into believing that, if his son-in-law renounced
all claim to Bohemia, Philip might withdraw his forces
from the Palatinate and try to check the Imperial advance.

Meanwhile, as James continued to temporize on the war
question, both Houses were rapidly losing their tempers.
At first, their patriotic fervour had hidden the grievances
which lay smouldering beneath the surface. But the un¬
popular actions of the King and the continued omnipotence
of his favourite would not go uncriticized for long, once
they had abandoned the topic of foreign policy.

It was, no doubt, a veiled attack on Buckingham when

55

BUCKINGHAM

the Upper House proceeded to fall upon the tribe of
courtiers promoted by James to high rank regardless of
the dignity of the ancient nobility. Spirited scenes occurred
when a protest was entered against the fact that certain
Scottish and Irish peers had taken precedence of English
nobles. In the meantime, an old grievance had cropped
up to occupy the attention of the Commons, who pro¬
ceeded to attack the system of monopolies, in which the
favourite, though not financially involved, had none the
less taken quite a serious interest.

These monopolies were exclusive rights granted by the
Crown to individuals or bodies of individuals to manu¬
facture and sell certain articles. Their unpopularity was
due to the fact that they were invariably accompanied by
a rise in the price of such commodities as were involved.
At the present moment great scandals had resulted from
the misuse of these grants, and the Commons proceeded to
hold an inquiry into the abuses which had crept into the
licensing of inns and alehouses, and the manufacture of
laces and fine materials from gold and silver thread. It was
common knowledge that Buckingham had strongly sup¬
ported the royal right to grant these monopolies, and shown
himself angry at any attempt to evade them. Apart from
his own conviction that they were a definite addition to the
King’s authority, he was influenced by the fact that his
two brothers, Edward and Christopher, had invested sub¬
stantial sums in some of the manufactures so protected. It
was hardly likely, therefore, that Buckingham would look
on with equanimity whilst this royal privilege was attacked.

Caring nothing for the favourite, the Commons fell with
fierce passion upon those who had abused the monopolies.
Sir Francis Michell was sent on foot and bareheaded to the
Tower, whilst Sir Giles Mompesson only evaded the fate
which was awaiting him when he managed to elude the

56

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

serjeants who held him in custody and escape to the
continent. At this point a member of the Lower House
made the speech — ominous it must have sounded in
Buckingham’s ears — that ‘they best defended the King’s
prerogative who tried to preserve it against the vermin that
would destroy the commonwealth’. 1

Worse was yet to come. Not content with attacking
those who had abused the monopolies, the Commons now
proceeded to lay before the Upper House a complaint
against the referees, Bacon and Mandeville, who, with the
King’s permission, had sanctioned the recent abuses. It
was clear that Parliament was rapidly becoming conscious
of its own authority in thus demanding the right to inquire
into the conduct of ministers of the crown. James, loth to
dissolve Parliament, resolved to try and appease the mem¬
bers by telling them a fable.

‘Before Parliament met,’ he declared, ‘my subjects,
whenever they had any favour to ask, used to come either
to me or to Buckingham. But now, as if we had both ceased
to exist, they go to Parliament. All this is most disrespect¬
ful. I will, therefore, tell you a fable. In the days when
anima ls could speak, there was a cow burthened with too
heavy a tail, and, before the end of the winter she had it
cut off. When the summer came, and the flies began to
annoy her, she would gladly have had her tail back again.
I and Buckingham are like the cow’s tail and when the
session is over you will be glad to have us back again to
defend you from abuses.’’

It was all in vain. In the House of Lords the attack on
Bacon and Mandeville proceeded vigorously, and when
Pembroke spoke of them as ‘two great lords’ he was sharply
reprimanded and reminded that ‘no lords of this House

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. Games I), 1619-23. p. 231.

2 GARDINER, IV, p. 49.

57

BUCKINGHAM

axe to be named great lords for they are all peers’. 1 This
language, together with the attack on the referees, seems
to have alarmed Buckingham to such an extent that he
hastened to Williams for counsel. The Dean advised a
complete reversal of his former policy, advocating that he
should throw himself in with the popular movement. ‘You
must not quarrel with Parliament for tracing delinquents
to their proper form,’ he declared, ‘for it is their proper
work. Follow this Parliament in their undertakings, swim
with the tide and you cannot be drowned. My sentence is,
cast all monopolies into the Dead Sea. Damn them by
revocation.’ In short, Buckingham was to let Parliament
see that ‘he loved not his own mistakings, and was the
most forward to recall them’.*

Acting on this advice, James sent Buckingham to the
Upper House to convey his gracious message of thanks to
them for their endeavours, and encouragement to proceed
further. Touching his own part in the affair the Marquis
declared that two of his brothers had been involved, and
that he himself had been drawn in to be a means of
furthering many of these grants. In his youth and in¬
experience it had not occurred to him that they were in
any way detrimental to the commonwealth. He was more
than willing to expiate his sins, and if his father had
begotten two sons to be grievances to the country, he had
also begotten a third who would help in punishing them.
In conclusion, he graciously added that this was the first
time he had known what a Parliament was, that hitherto
he had considered that body detrimental to the Fling’s
prerogative and that now he was ready to make himself
the means whereby Parliaments should be frequently
summoned.

1 Elsing, Notes of Debates in the House of Lords, 1621, 1635, and 1628. Ed.
Relf, Camden Society Pub., p. 42.

* Hacket, Scrima Reserata , Part 1, p. 50.

58

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

But Buckingham was soon to find that his espousal of
the popular cause had not had its desired effect. The
Commons might have been appeased by his sudden change
of front, but the Lords could perhaps read deeper into his
motives and were not inclined to pay much attention to
his fair speeches.

The recent attacks now culminated in an inquiry into
the conduct of the Lord Chancellor, who was brought
before the Upper House for trial on a charge of receiving
bribes. Though he himself was the most surprised of all
men at the unexpected accusation, and though there was
little evidence to show that in receiving gifts he had done
more than follow a very common, if corrupt, custom of the
times, he was heavily fined and publicly disgraced.

Buckingham’s part in his trial was not so mean and
treacherous as is usually supposed. He had clearly realized
that there could be no urging that Bacon had not received
certain bribes during the administration of his office, but
whilst admitting this, he repeatedly requested the Lords
to consider how common this practice had become, and
to take merciful account of the exalted station of the
Chancellor. His constant intercession on Bacon’s behalf
was plucky, in view of the temper rapidly developing in
the Upper House.

There were dramatic scenes in that chamber when Sir
Henry Yelverton, who had been sentenced to imprison¬
ment in the Tower in the previous year, was brought
from his confinement to give an account to the Lords of
his conduct with regard to the enforcement of the un¬
popular monopolies and patents. The feeling displayed
during this inquiry was such as to infuriate James and
drive Buckingham into open defiance. For Yelverton,
bitter at his long and unjust sentence, vented his feelings
against the favourite, asserting that it was only the fear of

59

BUCKINGHAM

Buckingham ‘ever at His Majesty’s hand, ready upon every
occasion to hew him down’, which had led him to enforce
the monopolies. He also revealed that Buckingham had
told him c he would not hold his place a month if he did
not conform himself in better measure to the patent of
inns’. 1 The House gasped at this temerity, but worse was
yet to follow. Yelverton went on to remind the favourite
of ‘the articles exhibited in this place against Hugh
Spencer’,* and it is likely that he would have been silenced
had not Buckingham haughtily commanded him to
proceed.

The points at issue in Yelverton’s trial from this moment
lost themselves in the question as to how far he had laid
a scandal upon Buckingham and indirectly insulted the
King. The debates which followed in the Upper House
were vitriolic, and when finally on May 14th Yelverton
was brought before the Bar he was commanded to pay
10,000 marks — one half to Buckingham and the other
to the King — sentenced to a long imprisonment, and made
to explain away his words.

With one of those magnificent gestures so typical of him
Buckingham freely remitted his part of the fine, and
besought the King to do likewise. In June the Houses
were prorogued until November, with the favourite
outwardly triumphant. But a struggle had been opened,
of a deeper significance than any of the combatants
realized. The sacrosanctity of the Kingship, through its
ministers, had been attacked, and these proceedings were
only the forerunners of a contest which was to leave an
unforgettable imprint upon the annals of our history.

When the new session opened, the Commons were
determined to be put off no longer, and resolved to force
the King’s hand against the detested power of Spain.

1 Lords* Journals, ill, p. 121.

60

2 Ibid.

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

Led by such fiery spirits as Phelips, Coke, Wentworth and
Pym, they proceeded to launch a violent attack upon the
Spaniard. Pym established himself as one of the greatest
of'Parliamentary orators by the burning rhetoric with
which he now proceeded to sketch the calamities he fore¬
saw as a consequence of the proposed match with Spain.
As usual, Roman Catholicism was inseparably associated
with the Spanish alliance, and it was to the danger of an
increase in Papacy that he now applied himself — ‘If the
Papists once obtain a connivance, they will press for a
toleration; from thence to an equality; from an equality
to a superiority; from a superiority to an extirpation of
all contrary religions.’ 1 The growing Puritanism of the
middle classes took alarm at these words, and the Com¬
mons resolved that a petition on the point of religion should
be prepared immediately and presented to the King. At
the same time they showed their loyalty to the true
interests of the nation by voting a subsidy for the support
of the troops in the Palatinate.

Before the petition could be presented, however, Gondo-
mar had learnt what was going on, and proceeded to deal
with James as only he knew how. The letter he now
penned to the King was a masterpiece of insolence. Were
it not for the fact, he declared, that James must only be
waiting to punish his unruly subjects, he himself would
have left the realm already — ‘since you would have ceased
to be a King here, and as I have no army here at present
to punish these people myself.’*

James was certainly straining at a gnat and swallowing
a camel when, insensitive to the insult dealt him by the
Spanish Ambassador, he proceeded to remonstrate angrily
with the Commons for arguing on matters beyond their
capacity, touching upon the royal prerogative. It is well

1 Proceedings and Debates in i 6 zi, it, p. 210. * Gardiner, iv, p. 249.

6l

BUCKINGHAM

known how, touched upon their sorest point — the matter
of privilege — the Commons solemnly entered a Remon¬
strance in their Journals. When he sent for the book and
tore out the page with his own hand, James alienated the
House beyond any hope of reconciliation. The only
possible outcome of these proceedings was dissolution.

That James’s unconciliatory attitude towards Parliament
had been greatly fostered by Buckingham seems more than
probable. During most of these tempestuous proceedings
the King’s ill health had kept him at Newmarket where he
would give access to none of his councillors, preferring
merely the company of his favourite. On December 16th,
Williams — now Lord Keeper — had written to James,
wisely advising him that the Commons regarded their
privileges as inherent and not of grace, and he would do
well to acknowledge this, and assure them he had no wish
to infringe them. Yet Buckingham’s counsels lay in another
direction and James disregarded the wisdom of Williams.
By now the favourite had come very strongly under the
influence of Gondomar, and was ready to seize any
opportunity of silencing those who opposed the Spanish
alliance. When, for form’s sake, James consulted his
Council on the advisability of a dissolution, the councillors
looked at each other dismally, saying nothing until Pem¬
broke broke the ice by declaring that since the King had
declared his will ‘it is our business not to dispute but to
vote’. Flushed by triumph, Buckingham challenged this
councillor — ‘If you wish to contradict the King, you are
at liberty to do so, and to give your reasons. If I could find
any reasons I would do so myself, even though the King
himself is present’. 1 The silence was resumed, no debate
took place, and a dissolution was decided upon. In great
delight, Buckingham hastened to Gondomar’s lodging to

1 Gardiner, iv, p. 265.

6a

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

inform the Spanish Ambassador that he had obtained his
desire. With Parliament silenced, the marriage negotia¬
tions could proceed.

Buckingham’s unpopularity with all good Protestants
was now complete, and it even began to be rumoured that
the favourite was ready to go over to the Papal fold. It is
strongly to be doubted whether Buckingham’s religious
convictions were stable enough to make him desire such
a conversion. He was not really a deeply religious man,
although later he definitely allied himself with the High
Church party, led thereto no doubt by the influence of
his friendship with Laud and his love for that beauty in
all forms of ceremonial which the Puritans so strenuously
denounced. During Charles’s reign, Arminianism flourished
under the aegis of the still powerful favourite.

At this particular moment, however, domestic influences,
together with that of Gondomar, may have worked upon
Buckingham to some extent. It was well known that his
wife’s conversion had been merely nominal, whilst his
mother frequently inclined towards the tenets of the
Roman Catholic Church. But James was determined to
stop all the gossip which anticipated Buckingham’s
apostasy, and in January, 1622, the Marquis, with his
wife, his mother and his sister, came to the Lord Bishop of
London’s palace, and were accompanied by the choir of
St. Paul’s into the chapel, where they were all confirmed
by the Bishop, with whom they afterwards dined. In the
following June we find the three ladies receiving Com¬
munion publicly in the King’s Chapel, and, it is said,
rewarded by a grateful James with the gift of £ 2000.

In the meantime negotiations with Spain were pro¬
ceeding upon the subject of the proposed marriage.
James’s elder son, Henry, had refused to entertain the
thought of a similar match, avowing that he would flee

63

BUCKINGHAM

the realm rather than wed a Roman Catholic — ‘two
religions shall not lie in my bed’, he stoutly declared.
Charles had no such feelings. The mere fact that Bucking¬
ham so hotly favoured the union made it appear a brilliant
stroke of diplomacy to the Prince, who had the highest
possible conception of his friend’s wisdom and statecraft.
Gondomar had also worked upon him during the past few
months, even suggesting to him that better results might
be obtained from the negotiations were he to visit Madrid
incognito with only one or two servants. Moreover,
Charles knew that the proposed marriage was one of his
father’s dearest wishes, and it is small wonder that in face
of all this combined persuasion the Prince — who had
always found it easier to take the line of least resistance —
made no objections. He knew that this marriage was
avowedly to aid the cause of his dearly loved sister and so
was prepared to shelve personal feelings. But, we are told,
one day when he had been publicly expressing his admira¬
tion for a portrait of the Infanta, he turned aside and
remarked to one of his personal attendants, ‘Were it not
for the sin, it would be well if princes could have two
wives; one for reason of state, the other to please them¬
selves.’ 1 Whatever private disinclinations he may have had
he seems to have overcome, and after the dissolution of
Parliament he was just as impetuous in his desire for the
marriage as Buckingham.

In March Lord Digby — afterwards the Earl of Bristol —
had been sent to the Spanish Court to conduct preliminary
negotiations, and in May, 1622, Gondomar was recalled
to Madrid that the two might confer upon the problems
arising out of the suggested alliance. Only four months
later he received a letter from Buckingham which must
have more than satisfied him as to the results of his own

1 Gardiner, iv, p. 368.

64

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

diplomacy in England. For it appeared that Roman
Catholicism was about to enjoy an overwhelming triumph
in that country. ‘Here all things are prepared upon our
parts,’ wrote the favourite, ‘priests and recusants all at
liberty, all the Roman Catholics well satisfied, and our
prisons, emptied of priests and recusants, are filled with
zealous ministers for preaching against the match.’ But
there was a proverbial fly in the ointment!

Buckingham found himself at a loss to understand the
fact that, despite Gondomar’s fair promises to himself
when in England, the attack upon the unfortunate German
Protestants was proceeding with unabated vigour. The
Imperial forces, under Tilly, were beleaguering Heidelberg,
the stronghold of Protestantism, and it was doubtful
whether that unfortunate city could hold out much longer.
Buckingham found it necessary to warn Gondomar that
any further acts of aggression could only jeopardize all
prospects of an alliance, and probably result in ‘a bloody
and unreconcilable war between the Emperor and my
master’. In conclusion he urged ‘that as we have put the
ball to your foot, you take a good and speedy resolution
there to hasten the happy conclusion of the match.’ 1

On the heels of this letter came the news that Heidelberg
had fallen to Tilly’s forces, and all Europe now waited
with bated breath for the next move of the British
monarch. Had James been actuated by the nobility
which he imagined to be his portion as a mediator in
Europe, he would have regarded the whole question
from a much higher view-point than the one he now
chose.

Nepotism coloured his vision to the extinction of all
else, and the desire to restore his son-in-law to the Palatinate
became his paramount aim. Even the grand idea of con-

1 Cabala, p. 224.

E 65

BUCKINGHAM

certed action with Spain against the Emperor presently
began to narrow itself down to an overwhelming desire
to conclude a brilliant and wealthy marriage for his son.
To James the Protestant cause was bewilderingly confused
with his family interests, and consequently his diplomacy
became increasingly intricate as he tried to benefit first
the one and then the other of his children.

On the receipt of the news from Heidelberg, London
blazed with war fever, which momentarily affected those
two very impressionable young men — Charles and Buck¬
ingham. The Prince sought an interview with his father,
and going down on his knees before the King with tears in
his eyes, besought him to take pity upon his poor, distressed
sister, her husband and children, and no longer to dally
with treaties. With boyish fervour Charles offered to raise
an army, and lead his subjects to war against the Spaniard.
But James, ever reluctant to commit himself to a Spanish
war, answered that he would make one more effort at
diplomacy with Spain before committing himself to such a
course. Endymion Porter, a gentleman of the Prince’s
bedchamber, who had spent the early years of his life in
Spanish court circles, was selected as messenger for Madrid.
He was to undertake the delicate task of reminding the
Spanish ministers of their promises, dangling the bait of a
possible visit to Spain by Charles. Officially he carried an
‘either-or’ in the form of the Council’s ultimatum to the
King of Spain, demanding a favourable answer to the
Palatinate question within ten days, or the Earl of Bristol
would be recalled from Madrid and the negotiations
broken off. On October 7th, 1622, Porter received his
instructions from the King’s own hand, and as he left the
Palace the onlookers cried unanimously, ‘Bring us war!
Bring us war!’ Such was the temper of the nation.

At the court of Spain the Earl of Bristol was finding his

66

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

position as ambassador extraordinary in the marriage
negotiations bewildering enough. On the one hand, he
had the visionary dreams of James that Spain would really
take up arms against the Emperor for the restitution of the
Palatinate to the headstrong and unstable Frederick. On
the other hand, Spain cherished the idea that could she
secure the person of the English Prince, there would be
every prospect of his conversion to Catholicism and the
return of England to the Papal fold. In the midst of all
these misapprehensions, Bristol must have found it very
difficult to keep his hold on reality.

On November ist Porter appeared at Madrid, and the
private letter he carried from Buckingham was well re¬
ceived by the Conde d’Olivares, the Spanish King’s
favourite and chief minister. A warm welcome was assured
the Prince should he decide to visit Spain. An answer to
the official demand for the restitution of the Palatinate was
withheld on the excuse of the King’s absence. But Porter,
exceeding his authority, chose to go straight to Olivares,
asking for a definite agreement that the Spanish forces in
the Palatinate would uphold the Protestant cause. The
haughty Spanish minister immediately flared into a passion,
asserting that it was preposterous to ask the King of Spain
to take arms against his uncle, the Catholic League and the
House of Austria. He ended his tirade with the ominous
words: ‘That for the match, he knew nothing of it, nor
could he understand what it meant.’ 1

In the heat of the moment Olivares had said too much,
and to Bristol’s remonstrance he merely declared that
Porter was not a fit person to whom one might confide
momentous secrets. To cover up his minister’s mistake, the
King of Spain reassured Sir Walter Aston, the resident
English Ambassador in Spain, that, if necessary, he was

1 Buckingham’s Relation to Parliament, Lords * Journals , in, p. 221.

67

BUCKINGHAM

ready to dispatch an army to the support of the Pala tina te
cause. But in the meantime, one by one, the last garrisons
of Protestantism were falling into the hands of Tilly.

There was another obstacle in the way of the match
which Charles and Buckingham had apparently never
remotely anticipated. The young Spanish Infanta, whose
charm lay rather in her exquisite colouring than in regu¬
larity of features, was now almost seventeen. Her foir
complexion and reddish curls won universal envy and
admiration from the olive-hued senoritas who attended her,
whilst her gentle disposition made her beloved by all. But
underneath her apparent docility she had a strong will,
and was deeply upset by the suggestion to marry her to a
Protestant Prince. Her brother loved her well enough to
listen to her openly avowed dislike of the whole idea, but
Olivares was determined not to sacrifice his schemes to a
woman’s whims, and theologians were brought before her
to urge the magnificent prospect of bringing a heretic
nation back to the Papal fold. Under combined persuasion,
her zeal conquered her reluctance, and she declared herself
ready for the sacrifice.

On December 2nd, 1622, the King of Spain presented
Bristol with the marriage articles, demanding freedom of
worship in their own houses for the English Roman
Catholics, complete liberty in religious matters for the
Infanta’s household, and the education of her children in
their mother’s frith until at least the age of nine. Thus
mildly did Spain open her campaign for the Roman
Catholics m England! With regard to the Palatinate
question, the Spaniards declared that it would be im¬
possible for the Spanish King to deliver a seventy days’
ultimatum to the Emperor. Yet Bristol-to his future
detriment-assured James that the Spaniards were in
earnest about the match, and that he foiled to see how they

68

THE INFANTA DONNA MARIA OF SPAIN
From the portrait by Velasquez, Gallery del Prado, Madrid

Photo: Amleison

PARLIAMENT AND FOREIGN POLITICS

could send their Princess, handsomely endowed, to England
if they intended to quarrel over the Palatinate.

On December 13th Porter left Spain, carrying with him
the marriage articles and private information from Gondo-
mar that the Prince would be very welcome should he
decide to visit Madrid. On January 2nd he arrived in
England with his momentous dispatches, and speculations
were rife as to what was to happen next. Some said that
Gondomar was to visit Germany in person to secure the
restitution of the Palatinate. With great apprehension, the
prospect of a personal visit to Spain by the Prince himself
was discussed. In other circles, it was current talk that
Buckingham would go in person, as Lord High Admiral,
with a large fleet to fetch the Infanta. On January'4th,
1623, an order was given for the preparation of a fleet of
ten ships for this very purpose, and it was publicly an¬
nounced that Buckingham was to undertake the errand.
James had shut his eyes to the difficulties surrounding his
son-in-law’s position, and was pressing the match with the
mistaken notion that Spain would really be able to assist
him in the unfortunate Frederick’s cause, which every day
became more hopeless. To this end he was willing to make
impossible promises with regard to the Roman Catholics in
Britain, regardless of the consequences he must face when
next he had to meet his Parliament. But a scheme, beside
which James’s folly pales into insignificance, was hatching
in the fertile brains of Buckingham and the Prince.

69

CHAPTER IV

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT ADVENTURE

Gondomar had astutely sown the seed of the idea of a
personal visit to Spain in the minds of Buckingham and
the Prince, and now that seed began to germinate and
develop a form which, to the majority of contemporary
statesmen, seemed pure madness. It is probable that by
the beginning of January, 1623, the idea had been sug¬
gested to James that the Prince should accompany the
fleet which Buckingham was preparing to bring over the
Infanta. But, too impatient to wait till May, when the
fleet was to be ready, these two rash-beings evolved a
scheme which seemed to them to surpass all the historic
adventures of the old knights-errant for boldness and ex¬
citement. The more Buckingham and Charles discussed
their new idea, the more it fired their romantic ardour.
The notion which was to make half Europe gasp with
astonishment, was that the Prince — accompanied, of
course, by his Steenie — should traverse Europe incognito,
on horseback in Quixotic fashion, with a retinue of only
one or two servants. Charles’s imagination was captivated
at the thought of such a chivalrous enterprise. Like the
gallant knights of old, he was to go forth boldly in quest of

his lady love, seeking he knew not what adventures by the
way.

The main setback to their schemes was that James would
M to see the romance of the adventure, and was likely to
be only too clearly aware of its difficulties. But he must be
talked round, and who were more competent to do this
than the two to whom he found refusal so difficult? It was

70

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT ADVENTURE

decided that the Prince should first approach his father,
and — securing his solemn oath of secrecy — convey the
scheme to him as his own most earnest desire. The Prince
having broken the ice, Buckingham’s greater dexterity was
to fulfil the rest. The two conspirators waited until they
caught the King in a mood which augured well and then
approached him mysteriously by beseeching his complete
silence upon a certain matter about to be communicated
to him, and which could not proceed but by his royal will.
Highly flattered, the King consented quite amicably to
preserve the secret, and thereupon the Prince fell upon his
knees and with great importunity offered his request,
Buckingham standing by without saying a word. James
showed less passion than they had expected, and was
ready to talk the affair over quite seriously. Buckingham
now proceeded to play upon his emotions by assuring him
that he would deal a terrible blow to the youthful en¬
thusiasm of his son should he refuse him this request, upon
which his heart was so set. Whereupon Charles, seeing his
father’s mood become more melting every moment, ad¬
vanced the consideration that by this personal journey he
would hasten the treaty with Spain, and the restitution of
the Palatinate to his sister and brother-in-law, which he
knew his father most passionately desired to accomplish
ere he left this world. Buckingham again added his
weight to the arguments in favour of the proposal; it would
prevent much delay and cut down expenses — a potent
consideration with James — whilst it would be much easier
to keep the visit a complete secret. They could journey in
disguise, and they would be well on their way through
France before Whitehall knew of the fact. Against such
forceful pleading the King could not hold out, he gave his
consent, and all that remained was to nominate the persons
who should accompany them in their adventure.

7i

BUCKINGHAM

Once in the privacy of his chamber, James had time for
his own cogitations. Arguments pressed thick upon hir^
against this rash enterprise. The personal danger to ‘Baby
Charles’, as he still called his son, struck terror into his
heart. The nation would blame him for letting its Prince
depart into the power of a foreign country, his fellow
monarchs would view his action censoriously, his prestige
abroad might easily be ruined.

Gone was his peace of mind. He paced this way and that
in an agony of apprehension, and was so overwrought that
when the Prince and the Marquis came to him about the
arrangements he burst into tears and told them that ‘he
was undone and it would break his heart if they pursued
their resolution’. His arguments against the enterprise
came forth in a torrent. The treaty could not be assisted
by such rashness, and the only result of the mad enterprise
would be that the Spaniards and the Pope, having secured
the Prince in Spanish territory, would make the most of
their opportunity to press for greater privileges for those of
the Roman Catholic religion over here, which would never
be agreed to by an English Parliament. Yet, were these
privileges not granted, they would cause such delays that
the old king feared he would never live to see the marriage
take place, or to see his beloved son again. He proceeded
to tell Buckingham that his complicity in such a scheme
would seal his unpopularity with both people and nobility,
and his enemies would make it an occasion to attack him.

Nor would it lie in the King’s power to protect him against
such attack. 6

Wxth more sighs and tears, the King concluded and
begged them to give up the whole idea. To all of this the
ttrnce and Marquis presented a stony front. They did not

2 £ mee * Kkg’ 8 arguments, but merely re¬
minded him of his promise, Buckingham telling him

7 *

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT ADVENTURE

bluntly that ‘nobody could believe anything he said, when
he retracted so soon the promise he had so solemnly made’.
He accused him of having sought other advice contrary to
his oath of secrecy. The signs of displeasure upon the
countenances of the two he loved so well reduced the un¬
fortunate King once again to a tearful, if reluctant, com¬
pliance with their wishes.

The debate on the journey was resumed, and it was
decided that it should commence without delay, Charles
departing under pretext of hunting at Theobalds, and the
Marquis ostensibly to take physic at Chelsea. The two
companions chosen were Sir Francis Cottington, the
Prince’s secretary, who had at one time been His Majesty’s
agent at the Spanish Court, and Endymion Porter, who had
so recently returned from his confidential mission to Spain.
The King approved their choice, and, observing that things
necessary for the journey might occur to another, he sent for
Sir Francis Cottington to ask his advice upon such matters.

It was an anxious moment for the two young men.
‘Cottington will be against the journey’, whispered Buck¬
ingham in the Prince’s ear. ‘He durst not,’ replied Charles.
The King then entered with Sir Francis, remarking to him
cheerfully, ‘Cottington, here is Baby Charles and Steenie
who have a great mind to go by post into Spain to fetch
home the Infanta and will have but two more in their
company and have chosen you for one. What think you
of the journey?’ At these words Cottington — to use the
phrase he himself afterwards employed — ‘fell into such a
trembling that he could hardly speak’. Being commanded
to answer he replied that he thought it would render all
that had been done towards the match fruitless, and that
the Spaniards would press for further advantages for the
Roman Catholics once they had the Prince in their
hands. At these words James flung himself upon his bed,

73

BUCKINGHAM

exclaiming, *1 told you this before, snd, with more tears
and passion, moaned again that he was undone and would
lose Baby Charles.

Beside themselves with rage, the Prince and Buckingham
now proceeded to pour out the vials of their wrath upon
the unfortunate secretary. Buckingham rated him soundly,
saying ‘that he knew his pride well enough, and that, be¬
cause he had not first been advised with, he was resolved
not to like it’. His counsel, he added, had merely been
asked upon the choice of route and he had presumed to
give advice upon matters outside his province. Whereupon
the King, seeing that this faithful servant was likely to
suffer for having answered him honestly, was forced to
expostulate ‘Nay, by God, Steenie, you are very much to
blame to use him so. He answered me directly to the ques¬
tion I asked him, and very honestly and wisely; and yet
you know he said no more than I told you before he was
called in.’ 1 Buckingham’s outburst had shown the King
how passionately his heart was set upon this enterprise, and
he realized that further opposition was useless. It only
remained to make the necessary preparations. The parting
between the King and his son and favourite, it was decided,
should be as casual as possible so as to attract no undue
attention.

On Monday, February 17th, 1623, the King left his
favourite residence at Theobalds to go to Royston. At
Theobalds he took leave of the Prince and Buckingham,
who, it was publicly announced, were to have a few days
absence to go on private business to Newhall, the Marquis’s
new mansion. As they came to take their leaves of the
King, bystanders heard him say: ‘See that you be with me
on Friday night,’ to which Buckingham replied, ‘Sir, if we

I,

1 The account of the interview is given in Clarendon, History of the Rebellion,
pp. 33-32.

74

BUCKINGHAM

distance the King’s coach, and Buckingham soon realized
that it was Boischot, the Spanish Ambassador, with several
officers of the court in attendance, on their way to London.
Since an encounter might result in recognition, despite their
disguise, the adventurous trio spurred their horses to a little
cross-country jumping, avoiding the high road. But they
had been seen. Sir Henry Mainwaring, Lieutenant of
Dover Castle, who, with Sir Lewis Lewkenor, Master of
Ceremonies, was attending Boischot, espying such
suspicious characters in their great hoods, with pistols at
their belts, sent a post to the Mayor of the next town on the
route which the strangers had seemed to be following. At
Canterbury, therefore, they were seized by the Mayor as
they were taking fresh horses. The worthy dignitary was
quite clear that he must arrest them, but seemed somewhat
confused as to his warrant. At first he declared it was the
order of the Privy Council, but a little judicious probing
soon melted it down to that of Lewkenor and Mainwaring.
Here was indeed a dilemma, but Buckingham’s ready wit
soon extricated them. Removing his false beard, he allowed
the now astonished Mayor to perceive his identity, and
whispered in his ear that in his capacity as Lord High
Admiral he was going to Dover to take a secret view of the
preparation of the fleet in the Narrow Seas, accompanied
by two of his servants.

These setbacks, together with the slowness of their new
horses, delayed their arrival in Dover until six o’clock that
night. Here Sir Francis Cottington and Endymion Porter
had been instructed to join them, and the five adventurers
met and discussed the prospects of a crossing. As the night
was very tempestuous they decided to delay their journey
until six next morning, when they set sail. Apparently they
a. a troubled crossing and were all feeling rather sick
when they landed at Boulogne by two o’clock in the

76

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT ADVENTURE

afternoon. Nevertheless, they pressed forward, reaching
Montreuil that night and Paris by Friday, the 21st.

Just before they reached Paris they had been greatly
entertained by meeting two German gentiemen, newly
returned from England, who described to them how they
had seen the Prince and the Marquis of Buckingham with
the King at Newmarket a day or so ago. Sir Richard
Graham intimated that perhaps they were mistaken, at
which they indignantly protested that they hoped they
could recognize two such great men when they saw them!

In Paris their disguise was in greater danger of being
penetrated, and no doubt Cottington would have preferred
to pass the French capital on the outskirts, but the Prince
desired to have a glimpse of the famous city and court.
Accordingly Charles and Buckingham bought periwigs to
overshadow their foreheads, and proceeded to the Royal
Palace. They entered unrecognized, even though they
met Monsieur Cadinet, who had recently been French
Ambassador in England, and from a gallery were rewarded
by a sight of the King ‘solacing himself with familiar
pleasures’, and the Queen Mother sitting at her table. Now
by chance, they had overheard two Frenchmen speak of a
masque and dance to be rehearsed that night, and the
Prince developed an overwhelming desire to visit these
festivities. Although it was arrant folly to linger in a place
where discovery would be most awkward, nothing could
dissuade the Prince and so that evening they set out for the
French Court.

They were admitted to the scene of the rehearsal by the
Due de Mont Bason, out of common humanity to a pair
of strangers who looked as if they had travelled far to get
a glimpse of the famous court. They were rewarded by
seeing the Queen of France and her sister Henrietta
Maria, rehearsing. Many chroniclers have sought

77

BUCK.lJNU-iiAj.vi

romantically to point out that from this moment Charles
conceived a hidden passion for the Princess who afterwards
became his wife. On the contrary, the letter he wrote to his
father describing what he had seen, scarcely mentions her
and apparently his thoughts were all for his hoped-for
Spanish bride. ‘There danced the Queen and Madame,’ he
wrote, ‘amongst which the Qpeen is the handsomest which
hath wrought in me a greater desire to see her sister’ (the
Infanta). 1

At three o’clock next morning, February 23rd, they left
Paris and after six days’ hard riding reached Bayonne.
Their fine riding coats had apparently attracted much
attention upon the route, so at Bordeaux they deemed it
expedient to equip themselves with five very ordinary
coats all alike in colour and texture, which conveyed the
impression that they were gentlemen of simple fortunes. By
so doing they managed to evade the too ready hospitality
of the Due d’Epemon.

They had now entered upon the season of Lent and could
get no meat at the inns. So they indulged in a sporting
interlude which delighted them. Near Bayonne they had
chanced across a herd of goats and their young. Sir Richard
Graham whispered to Buckingham that he would snatch
one of the kids to provide meat for them, which chance
remark being overheard by the Prince, he jestingly replied,
‘Why, Richard, do you think you may practise here your old
tricks again upon the borders?’ So they paid the goatherd
well for one of the kids, and then had to essay the task of
catching their purchase. How the Prince enjoyed the sight
of the Marquis of Buckingham and his servant heatedly
chasing the elusive kid on foot! Finally, with a fine aim,
Charles put an end to their labours by killing the kid
with a shot through the head from his Scottish pistol.

1 Eixb, Original Letters, Series I, vol. in, p. 121.

78

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT ADVENTURE

Charles, at any rate, seems to have enjoyed his madcap
escapade to the full, and was probably happier now in the
company of his beloved ‘Steenie’ than he had ever been or
was ever to be again.

At Bayonne, their manners and behaviour were com¬
mented upon by the Comte de Gramont, who, although he
courteously allowed them to pass him, later remarked to
some of his train that he thought they were gentlemen of
much higher rank than their dress betrayed. A few miles
beyond Bayonne, they chanced to meet Gresley, Bristol’s
courier, bearing papers to the King of England, at which
Charles glanced, but found them for the most part in cipher.
The small portion which he could read, however, was by no
means encouraging, but his ardour was not to be damped.
Upon his arrival at the English Court Gresley was able to
report that whilst Buckingham seemed very tired by his ride
across the Continent, he had seldom seen Charles in such
high spirits. As soon as the Prince had crossed to the
southern bank of the Bidassoa, he showed his youthful
exuberance by dancing with glee.

They had brought Gresley back with them so far, that
he might bear to the King their first letter written on
Spanish soil. First they assured their ‘deare dad and gossip’
that his two boys were quite safe and had sped through
France unharmed and undiscovered. Then they communi¬
cated the chilling doubt which lay in Bristol’s dispatches —
trouble was beginning already! ‘The temporal articles are
not concluded,’ they wrote, ‘nor will be till the dispensation
comes, which may be God knows when; and when that
time comes, they beg twenty days to conceal it.’ 1 But
Charles sanguinely imagined that these were airy trifles,
which his presence would quickly dispel.

In England their ‘poor old Dad’, with his right leg and

1 Hardwicke, State Papers, i, p. 403.

79

BUCKINGHAM

foot racked with gout, and his spirits all broken up by the
storm of protest which had landed upon him, took up
his pen and proceeded to write from his sick bed to his
‘Sweet boys and dear ventrous knights, worthy to be put
in a new Romanso’. 1 Alas for all their elaborate precau¬
tions for secrecy — scarcely had the travellers reached
Dover than the court had news of their departure. Where¬
upon the chief members of the King’s Council had
descended upon him with some passion.

James did not inform his son of all that had happened in
the interview at Newmarket, where several councillors
went on their knees to beseech James to tell them that the
news could not be true. The unfortunate monarch had to
admit that it was, and wearily shifted the blame from his
own shoulders on to those of the two young men now
merrily masquerading abroad. He told the Council how
the Prince had passionately desired him to put an end to
this distracting business by allowing him to go to Spain in
person. A state visit, with its attendant pomp and splen¬
dour, was inconvenient — as well as costly — and so the
Prince had decided to go privately. His Majesty reminded
them that the event was not unprecedented — he, his father
and his grandfather had all gone from Scotland to fetch
their wives. After a long discourse, the councillors prevailed
upon James to send Lord Carlisle to the King of France, to
inform that monarch of the Prince’s presence, in case he
were stayed in France.

Of all this, the last item only was conveyed by James to
his two dear boys, and how they would chuckle at the
thought of Carlisle making overtures for their safety in
France, whilst they were already over the border! Of the
international significance of their rash conduct, it is doubt¬
ful whether either of them ever thought seriously.

1 Habdwicke, State Papers i, p. 399.

Bo

AT THE SPANISH COURT

one of the Gentlemen of the King’s Bedchamber, and after
him Sir Walter Aston, similarly accompanied. The rest of
the Council of State and the Gentlemen of the Bedchamber
rode behind them, whilst the famous guard c de los archeros’,
handsomely arrayed, wound up the triumphal procession.

As Charles passed through the streets of Madrid the
people cheered madly, and all lips were singing the popular
song composed in his honour by Lope de Vega which told
in verse how Charles Stuart, guided by love, had come to
the Spanish sky to see his star Maria:

Carlos Estuardo soy
Que, siendo amor mi guia,

A 1 cielo d’Espano voy
Por ver mi estrella Maria.

The streets were adorned with rich hangings or curious
pictures, and in many places the people had staged little
shows, with here a comedian, and there a dancer, to give
delight to their exalted visitors.

Once at the Royal Palace, the Prince was to make his
debut before the Queen, whom he had not yet met officially.
She was waiting for them in the State Room, and as the
King and the Prince entered hand in hand she advanced
halfway to meet them. Together they proceeded towards
her cloth of State, upon which were placed three chairs —
the Queen sat in the middle, the Prince on her right hand
and the King on her left. Afterwards, the Prince was taken
to his own very sumptuously furnished apartment in the
Palace, where within an hour he received many costly gifts
from Her Majesty, including a massive golden basin, set
with precious stones, which required two men to carry it.
The Countess of Olivares similarly honoured the Marquis
of Buckingham with a noble present. The King also, to
show his especial trust in the Prince, gave him two golden

91

BUCKINGHAM

keys to the Palace to bestow upon any two English lords
he pleased, whereupon the Prince gave one to Buckingham
and one to Bristol. Buckingham also had his own apart¬
ment near to the Prince’s, and by royal command was to
be served with a full and plentiful diet and to be nobly
attended. He was generally treated with such courtesy as,
Bristol remarked, ‘hath not been seen imparted to any
stranger merely a subject . 1

For three more nights the people of Madrid made
carnival, with firework displays and torchlight parades,
and whenever the Prince was seen walking abroad he was
loudly acclaimed on all sides, with the shout: ‘Viva el
Principe de Galles’ — Long live the Prince of Wales! Full
descriptions of these festivities were sent to James by his
two boys, who appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the
novelty of their adventure. But, despite the general re¬
joicings, the main business seemed in a muddled state.
Whilst by all these outward shows the Spaniards apparently
desired the match ardently, yet they placed difficulties in
the way by Hankering persistently after a conversion of the
Prince, ‘for’, wrote Buckingham, ‘they say there can be no
firm friendship without unity in religion . . . but we put
this finite out of the question, because neither our con¬
science nor the time serves for it’. In view of all this talk of
a conversion, the Prince had certainly reason for adding a
postscript in his own hand — ‘I beseech your Majesty to
advise as little with your Council in these businesses as you
can.’

To this joint composition James’s ‘humble slave and dog
Steenie’ — as Buckingham always signed himself — added
a short letter describing the charms of the Infanta, with a
few other comforting reflections. ‘Without flattery,’ he
wrote, ‘I think there is not a sweeter creature in the world.

1 ‘A true relation’, etc., Nichols, Progresses of James J, m, p. 8x8.

92

AT THE SPANISH COURT

Baby Charles is so touched at the heart that he confesses
all he ever saw is nothing to her and swears that if he want
her, there shall be blows. I shall lose no time in hastening
their conjunction, in which I shall please him, her, you, and
myself most of all, in thereby getting liberty to make the
speedier haste to lay myself at your feet, for never none
longed more to be in the arms of his mistress.’ 1

So Buckingham began his task of matching his wits
against those of Olivares and his ‘busy Divines’. His hope
of speedily hastening the marriage was to prove somewhat
vain, for the Spaniards were prepared to go to all lengths
to secure the Prince’s conversion. Imagining that Bristol
was the stumbling block, Gondomar had approached him 3
beseeching him not to put obstacles in the way of this
worthy object. Bristol, not doubting Gondomar’s word —
which, indeed, was common gossip — made his advances to
the Prince one day when he found him walking alone in
the gallery of his house. The English Ambassador fell on
one knee, and humbly asked Charles, ‘What might be the
true motive and cause of your Highness’s coming hither?’
‘Why, my Lord,’ answered the Prince, ‘do you not know?’
‘No, in truth,’ replied Bristol, ‘nor cannot imagine. The
match would be no sufficient cause, for it might have been
transacted in your absence and much cost and labour have
been spared. But although I cannot imagine the cause my¬
self, yet I will tell you what others report — that your
Highness hath intent to change your religion, which if your
Highness should do, I shall do my best endeavour that
things may be carried out in the discreetest manner.’ * The
Prince somewhat angrily assured him that he was mistaken,
whereupon Bristol humbly apologized, having no idea that
one day Charles would make this the basis of a charge of
high treason against him.

1 Hakdwicke, State Papers, i, p. 410. 1 Goodman, Court of King James, 1, p. 404.

93

BUCKINGHAM

Since the Prince remained obdurate, the Spaniards next
decided to try a preliminary effort at conversion upon
Buckingham. Already he had been approached from a
higher quarter, for on March 19th} 1623? a certain Didacus
de la Fuente bore a letter to the Marquis from the Pope
himself, couched in the most flattering terms. He addresses
Buckingham as 'Nobleman, Health and the Light of
Divine Grace’, and goes on to point out to him how greatly
his already enormous prestige will gain potency by a de¬
fence of the true faith. Not by his accession to titles,
honours and riches will men remember him one-half so
well as if he should return the English monarchs to the
Papal fold. This action, he adds, ‘will write the name of
your nobleness in the book of the Living, whom the torment
of Death toucheth not and the monument of histories shall
place you amongst those wise men in whose splendour
Kings walked’. 1 These splendid visions did not, apparently,
move Buckingham who showed no signs of desiring to
change his faith or the Prince’s. If the Spaniards thought
he was ready for conversion, it was merely that his Arminian
views made him ready to conform to a few of the Roman
Catholic ceremonies. Thus he was observed, when entering
their churches, to bow the knee reverently before the
sacrament on the altar. Neither did he attend the Pro¬
testant services at the Embassy, which were held regularly
by Bristol’s chaplains.

It was apparently to gain time, and probably to divert
attention from Charles himself, that Buckingham consented
on April 4th to the suggestion of Olivares that a few theo¬
logical arguments should be tried upon himself. He was
conveyed very secretly to the monastery of San Jeronimo
for a discussion with Francisco de Jesus, a Carmelite friar,
who had played an active part in the recent negotiations.

1 Cabala, March 19th, 16*3, the Pope to Buckingham.

94

AT THE SPANISH COURT

The unfortunate friar quickly discovered that his seed was
falling upon barren ground, for never had a prospective
convert looked so blank and unperturbed after having been
utterly confounded in every point of the argument. Indeed,
it seems that Buckingham had made no real effort to follow
the discussion at all. Before he set out for the interview he
had jotted down on a piece of paper such remarks as he
imagined might meet the requirements of the situation!
This levity in religious matters did much to lower him in
the estimation of the Spaniards.

Three days after this episode things seemed to brighten,
for it was announced that the Prince might visit the Infanta.
The unexpected pleasure must have been responsible for
the impetuous behaviour of which Charles was now guilty.
His declaration of affection — a conventional and icy affair
— had been prepared for him beforehand. But, on seeing
the Infanta, he was evidently overcome by emotions which
he chose to express in language so ardent and extravagant
that the Queen and the rest of the court were thoroughly
shocked. His temerity did not, however, disturb the cool
and balanced Maria, who effectively masked her feelings
upon the outburst, and replied to his declaration in the
formal phrases she had prepared in the first instance. No¬
thing daunted, Baby Charles wrote to James of his future
wife in language more glowing than ever, whilst Steenie
was so optimistic that on April 18th he wrote home to
cancel some orders which he had given for the sending of
tilting horses for Charles, since he thought they would have
left Madrid before they arrived. On the same day he wrote
to Secretary Conway to tell him that he had secret informa¬
tion that the Pope had granted the dispensation for the
marriage. In this he was quite correct, for the Pope, not
wishing that the vials of James’s wrath should descend upon
his Roman Catholic subjects, were his son to return home

95

BUCKINGHAM

empty handed, had moved the whole burden of responsi¬
bility on to Philip’s shoulders. The dispensation was to be
delivered by the Nuncio at Madrid, but the Spanish King
was to stand security for all James’s promises. Never had
Philip found himself in a like dilemma, and for the moment
it seemed that Charles and Buckingham had scored a
decided triumph.

Meanwhile in England the news of their safe arrival and
glorious reception was made known, and to celebrate the
event the bells of London rang merrily and the streets
glowed to the flames of torches and bonfires. The King, in
his lonely palace at Theobalds, picked up his pen, on
April ist, to congratulate his two dear boys upon their
magnificent entertainment, which he hoped would not
cause them ‘to miskenne their olde Dad hereafter’. But he
prayed them to make haste, for the royal coffers in England
were nearly empty with providing servants and ships to
send after the Prince, so that James was fain to drop a hint
that a s mall advance on the marriage dowry would be most
welcome! In conclusion he urged them not to forget their
principal accomplishment, even though the Spanish Court
offered little opportunity of practice — ‘Keep yourselves in
use of dancing privately, though ye should whistle and sing
to one another like Jack and Tom for want of better
music.’ 1

Now April 23rd was St. George’s Day, and as early
as March 17th in one of his trifling and garrulous
letters James had urged them to celebrate this day
with unusual pomp and ceremony, so as to impress the
Spanish Court. Together with a galaxy of magnificent
jewels, he had sent them their robes of the Order of the
Garter to wear for the occasion, and on the evening of the
twenty-third the lonely old Kin g sat in his Palace thinking

1 Ellis, Original Letters, Series I, vol. hi, p. 140.

96

AT THE SPANISH COURT

of the Spaniards enjoying the ‘goodly sight’ of his two boys
dining in their splendid clothes and jewels, and no doubt
longing for the time when they could be together again.

But the Spaniards had not, apparently, appreciated the
‘goodly sight’, and it is on this occasion that we hear for the
first time that Buckingham’s behaviour caused offence. It
may be that what seemed to him the certainty of success,
and the knowledge of his splendid appearance in his rich
jewels and fine clothes, had combined to produce in him
that excitement and rash self-confidence which were so
often to prove his undoing. His gestures were disliked by
the assembled company, as savouring top much of the
French, whilst his familiarity with the Prince left his
listeners aghast. They were horrified to hear him calling
Prince Charles by undignified and stupid nicknames. Such
conduct was altogether beyond the understanding of the
staid and conventional Spanish grandees, who could not
comprehend the intimacy of the friendship which existed
between Charles and Buckingham. Their disgust with the
latter had already commenced with his unfavourable re¬
action to their attempts at his conversion, and the incident
which now followed must have put him quite beyond the
pale.

The evening of St. George’s day had been set aside for a
final desperate effort to convert Charles, and he and Buck¬
ingham were taken aside into a small room, where four
friars were waiting to speak with them. The discussion
turned upon the Pope’s claim to be considered as the Vicar
of Christ upon Earth and the Head of the Church. To
prove his point, Father Zacharias quoted the passage in
the Gospel where Christ said to Peter, ‘Simon, Simon,
Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as
wheat, but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not:
and thou, when thou art converted, strengthen thy

g 97

BUCKINGHAM

brethren.’ The Prince pointed out that in so applying the
quotation they were doing violence to the text, and re¬
quested that it should be twice re-read to him in French.
After the theologians had obliged him in this, he whispered
something in English to Buckingham. The remark had the
most amazing effect upon the Duke, for he immediately
sprang from his chair, and, after expressing with unse eml y
violence his low opinion of the friars, he pulled off his hat,
hurled it on the floor, and trampled upon it with fierce
vigour. After such a demonstration the interview was
naturally broken off abruptly.

Further trouble in religious matters seemed likely to
result from James’s well intentioned efforts to provide
Charles and Buckingham with the type of ceremonial they
preferred. To this end he had announced in one of his
letters, ‘I have sent you, my Baby, two of your chaplains
fittest for this purpose, Mawe and Wrenn, together with
all the stuff and ornaments fit for the service of God. I
have fully instructed them so as all their service and be¬
haviour shall, I hope, prove decent and agreeable to the
purity of the primitive church and yet as near Roman form
as can lawfully be done, for it hath ever been my way to
go with the Church of Rome “usque ad aras”.’ 1 But
Olivares told Cottington quite distinctly that the chaplains
would not be allowed to set foot within the Royal Palace,
and although Buckingham once urged Charles to attend
the religious ceremonies at Bristol’s house, this was not
kept up and when, a month later, Cottington was leaving
for England he carried with him a complaint from the
Prince on this score.

The religious difficulties did not interfere with the re¬
ception which the Spanish Court daily exerted itself to
give to the Prince and his friends. Apparently, t he

1 Hardwickb, State Papers, 1, p, 406.

9 $

AT THE SPANISH COURT

relaxation of the sumptuary laws had been followed by an
exceptional show of beautiful costumes and magnificent
jewels, so that the Prince was moved to write home to his
father on April 22nd, telling him that although the number
of jewels he had already sent them was far greater than he
had at first thought necessary, yet he must have more if he
hoped to keep up his appearance ‘since my coming, and
seeing that my bravery can consist of nothing else. Besides,
those which ye have appointed me to give the Infanta, in
Steenie’s opinion and mine are not fit to be given to her’. 1 2
Three days later a letter from Steenie himself stressed the
point. Buckingham’s portraits show how fond he was of
beautiful jewels, and he often wore two or three rich neck¬
laces about his neck. So now he besought James to hurry
the dispatch of more jewels, or else ‘his Dog would want
a collar’! In the postscript to this letter — as if to impress
the consequences of non-compliance with their requests —
Steenie announced that he had sent James a few of the
animals in which he appears to have delighted, to wit —
four asses, five camels, one elephant and a Barbary horse —
adding the threat, ‘but if you do not send your Baby jewels
enough, I’ll stop all other presents, therefore look to it.’*
No stronger proof could be required of the extraordinary
degree of famili arity into which the King had received his
favourite.

It is certain that many rich jewels, some of them
originally belonging to Queen Elizabeth, must have found
their way to Spain at this time. In answer to his son’s
requests, James announced that he was sending Sir Francis
Stewart to Spain with jewels which the Prince might con¬
sider worthy of the Infanta, and from the warrant made
out for the delivery of these gems we are able to form some

1 Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, p. 145.

2 Ibid, p. 147.

99

BUCKINGHAM

slight estimate of their magnificence. Poor Prince Henry
would have turned in his grave could he have seen ‘a faire
rich sworde, fully garnished with dyamondes of severall
bignes’, which had been presented to him by his mother,
wending its way to Spain to be given to the Spanish mon¬
arch. There was also ‘a great table dyamond, called the
Portugall Dyamond, with the Cobham Pearle hanging at
it, and the last of the three pendant pearls which did hang
at this jewel’. 1 This priceless gem was given to Olivares.
Pearl necklaces, jewelled hatbands, golden chains, pen¬
dants of precious gems in rare settings, rings of many a
curious and unique design all found their way from the
Jewel-House to Spain.

The Spaniards showed their appreciation of the English
King’s munificence by doing all in their power to entertain
royally the Prince and Buckingham, and the enormous
retinue of nobles who had flocked out to Spain to join them.
Every week some kind of a show was given at the Palace
for the entertainment of the visitors, and on these occasions
Charles made the most of his opportunity to study the
Infanta. T have seen the Prince have his eye immovably
fixed upon the Infanta half an hour together in thoughtful,
speculative posture,’* writes a contemporary. Olivares,
with more venom, observed that ‘he watched her as a cat
doth a mouse’. * That the Prince was growing impatient to
improve his acquaintance with his lady love was natural —
up to the present he had had no private conversation with
her. Their meetings took place publicly, the Earl of Bristol
being present as interpreter, with the Bang sitting nearby
to overhear all that was said.

So it chanced that early one morning the Prince rose and
repaired to the Caso del Campo, a summer house on the

1 Nichols, Progresses of James I, m, p. 850.

* W«nr»t fA 'Rnwfcpv, Jylw j^I-. .Tt&iCWWu^'V. mvm

* Wilson, Life and Retgn of James /, p. 773.

rpo

AT THE SPANISH COURT

other side of the river, where the Infanta and her ladies
often went to gather May-dew. The Prince was admitted
into the house and the garden, but the Infanta was in the
orchard, and since there was a high wall between, and a
door doubly bolted, the Prince climbed this wall and,
jumping down from a great height, commenced to run
eagerly towards the Princess. But she had seen him and,
with a great shriek, fled with all possible' speed. The
Prince was forced to abandon his efforts to see her, and it
must have been with a heart full of discouragement that he
wended his way back to the Palace to relate his story to
Steenie.

Buckingham was by now growing impatient. It was
almost two months since they had arrived in Madrid, and
since then nothing had been achieved on either side, whilst
annoying delays seemed likely to spread out the negotia¬
tions until the end of the year. Apparendy, he forgot him¬
self so far as to indicate openly his dislike for the slowness
of the proceedings, whereupon he was haughtily rebuked
by Olivares, through the medium of a message to the
Prince, asking him ‘to consider better how great a Prince
the King of Spain was when he came to speak in his
presence’. 1

On April 27 th Buckingham was writing to James, ex¬
pressing hopes that it would not be long before they were
all out of the labyrinth in which they had been entangled
these many years. But his hopes seemed futile in view of
the copy of the dispensation — ‘clogged with conditions’ —
which accompanied this letter. Apparendy, the Pope had
asked for general liberty of conscience for all Roman
Catholics in Great Britain, whilst the Infanta was to have
the education of her children until they had reached the
age of twelve. Upon reading this, James fell into a passion

1 Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, p. 153*

IOI

BUCKINGHAM

and shrieked with rage, ‘What would they have more? Let
them suffer me to have my ends, and they shall have my
heart. What would they have more?’ 1 This cryptic
utterance raised some alarm at court, and the nobility
began to mutter amongst themselves against Buckingham,
upon whom they laid all the blame, and he was threatened
with a ‘bloody greeting’ upon his return.

In Spain there had been a violent encounter between
Olivares and Buckingham. The latter was furious that the
Prince’s visit should have been made an excuse for pressing
these new concessions, and so great was the ill feeling which
ensued that for two days afterwards the favourites refused
to speak to each other. So unpopular was Buckingham
becoming with the Spanish grandees that Bristol told
James he had heard some of them say, ‘they would rather
put the Infanta headlong into a well than into his hands’.*
Olivares also remarked, whilst censuring Buckingham’s
great familiarity with the Prince, that ‘If the Infanta did
not, as soon as she was married, suppress that licence she
would herself quickly undergo the mischief of it.’*

But Buckingham’s impetuous conduct was far preferable
to the duplicity with which the Prince now commenced to
deal with the Spaniards. There is no doubt that at this
point the Marquis would have preferred to return home,
being quite convinced of the obstinacy of the Spaniards
and the Pope. But Charles was most unwilling to be
balked in his enterprise, and now proceeded to hold out
false hopes to the Spanish Commissioners that he would do
his best to induce Parliament to agree to a suspension of the
penal laws and a confirmation of the marriage articles as
quickly as possible. Rashly he placed the length of time
this would take as perhaps three or six months, maybe a

* Ellis, Original Letters, Series I. vol. hi, p. 150.
Clarendon, History of the Rebellion, 1, p. 63.

102

2 Cabala, p. 95.

AT THE SPANISH COURT

year — certainly not more than three years! He must have
known perfectly well that the English Parliament would
never consent to such conditions, and so did the astute
Olivares, when, in a private letter to the King of Spain, he
advised him to retain the Infanta in Spain until these
promises had actually been put into execution. The other
Spanish Councillors, not so clever as Olivares, were inclined
to think a little more persuasion of the Prince might be
effective and proceeded to make efforts to extract more
impossible promises from him. Buckingham tried the effect
of his personality upon the Papal Nuncio, but after a three
hours’ argument came to the conclusion that ‘there is now
no way to treat for this marriage but with the sword drawn
over the Roman Catholics’. 1

It was now very clear that Charles and Buckingham had
made the greatest mistake of their lives in coming to Spain.
Most of the contingencies which James and Cottington had
foreseen had now arisen and daily the position at the
Spanish Court was becoming more intolerable. In England
James had applied to Williams for his opinion upon the
venture — ‘Do you think,’ he asked, ‘that this knight-errant
pilgrimage will be likely to win the Spanish lady and convey
her shortly into England?’ The reply was true up to a
point — ‘If my Lord Marquis should forget where he is,
and not stoop to Olivares, or if Olivares, forgetting what
honour he hath just received with the Prince, bear himself
haughtily and like a Castilian grandee to my Lord Marquis,
the provocation may be dangerous to cross your Majesty’s
good intentions.’ *

Like most of his contemporaries, the Lord Keeper tended
to over-estimate Buckingham’s part in the breakdown of the
negotiations. There can be no doubt that the favourite s

1 Francisco de Jesus, Narrative of the Spanish Marriage Treaty , p. 230.

* Hacket, Scrinia Reserata , Part i, p. 115.

103

BUCKINGHAM

haughty and arrogant manners had irritated the Spaniards
beyond all measure, whilst his lack of restraint shocked their
rigid sense of propriety. But there were much deeper
reasons for the failure.

The Spaniards never lost sight of their dominating
passion — the conversion of Great Britain to Catholicism,
a singularly futile object! Charles must have been well
aware of its futility, yet he chose to remain at the Spanish
Court, maki ng one impossible promise after another, in the
hopes of winning his desired bride. Against this fruitless
and foolish policy Buckingham chafed with an impatience
which would naturally not improve his temper. His
letters now begin to reveal a consciousness that further
negotiations were quite hopeless, and an ardent desire to
return to England. Had the Spanish demands been more
moderate he would not so readily have been turned from
his object, but he saw clearly enough how impossible it
would be to obtain liberty of conscience for the English
Catholics. He tried to urge Charles to see things in the
same light. But it was all in vain. Not even Buckingham’s
influence could shake Charles’s obstinacy now, although he
did try the effect of sending a message to Olivares that the
Prince intended to leave Madrid immediately to go and
consult his father.

Olivares had no intention of allowing Charles to slip
through his fingers, and managed to persuade him to re¬
main until his case had been submitted before a Junta of
Theologians. On May 23rd — after a little further fencing
on both sides — the Junta pronounced its decision. The
Infanta was to remain in Spain for a year after the marriage
ceremony, within which time all the penal laws in England
must be relaxed, and an oath sworn by the British King,
Prince and Council that they would never be reimposed,
together with the full assent of Parliament to all these pro-

104

AT THE SPANISH COURT

ceedings. It was also hinted that Charles might have
possession of his wife at once if he were ready to stay in
Spain another year!

When Olivares, with beaming countenance, presented
himself before the Prince and Buckingham with these new
conditions, Buckingham completely lost his temper and
rated the Spaniard and his Court very soundly. Never, he
declared, had he known such utter duplicity. Olivares gave
him an icy retort, telling him quite frankly that he and
Charles had done no good by interfering in the affair and
would have done better to have left it to Bristol. His pride
deeply wounded, Charles thereupon made up his mind to
return to England, but further reflection caused him
to change it, and it was decided to dispatch Cottington
to James with the full story of these miserable negotiations.

In the meantime the English King’s chief occupation
consisted of preparing for the reception of the Infanta, and
during the intervals of such preparations doing his best to
demonstrate his constancy towards his absent favourite by
paying very special attention to his domestic concerns. A
large fleet was being prepared to go to Spain and bring
back the Prince and his bride, and it caused much heart¬
burning at court when the Earl of Rutland, Buckingham’s
father-in-law, was chosen above all others for the supreme
command. In vain did men look for some signs of abate¬
ment in the King’s affections for Buckingham. On the
contrary, whilst affairs of state occupied an insignificant
place in James’s mind, such matters as the weaning of
Buckingham’s child became of paramount importance. In
one of his trivial letters to his favourite James was over¬
joyed to tell him that ‘Kate and thy sister supped with me
on Saturday night last, and yesterday both dined and
supped with me, and so shall do still with God’s grace, as
long as I am here, and my little grand-chylde with her four

105

BUCKINGHAM

teeth is, God be thanked, well weaned, and they are all very
merry.’ The King by now thought of Buckingham as his
son, often referring to him as his bastard brat, and so he
lovingly called little Mary Villiers his grandchild, and
found great delight in playing with her. 1 On May 3rd the
Secretary writes to Buckingham that ‘His Majesty came to
Hyde Park, at the entry whereof he found a fair lady, in¬
deed the fairest Lady Mary in England, and he made a
great deal of love to her, and gave her his watch and kept
her as long pleased with him as he could, not without ex¬
pression to all the company that it was a miracle such an
ugly deformed father should have so sweet a child. 1

Further recognition was given to Buckingham’s family
during his absence when his brother, Christopher Villiers,
was created Earl of Anglesey. But an even greater honour,
it was whispered, was pending for Buckingham himself.
On all sides men talked of a Dukedom for the favourite — it
was rumoured that he was to be Duke of Clarence. The
King had already written to Buckingham telling him that
the Lord Treasurer had been a most importunate suitor on
his behalf for this supreme dignity, to which the favourite
replied that he wished it to proceed from James freely and
not by request, ‘for whensoever anything proceeds other¬
wise than immediately from your own heart and affection,
I shall kiss it and then lay it down at your feet again’. 1 He
also besought the King to create at least one other Duke,
for his sake, so as to stop jealous gossip.

James soon determined to bestow this crowning glory
upon his favourite. It would increase his prestige at the
Spanish Court, for the singularity of the honour dis¬
tinguished its bearer quite as much as the modem appella¬
tion of‘His Royal Highness’. At the moment there was no

1 Nichols, Progresses of James 7 , hi, p. 844.

8 Goodman, Court of King James , 11, p. 290.

8 Hardwicks, State Papers , 1, p. 414.

106

AT THE SPANISH COURT

other English Dukedom in existence — with the exception
of the Dukedom of York, which title was merged in that of
Prince of Wales. The only Scottish nobleman who bore the
title was the Duke of Lennox, a near kinsman of the King’s,
and therefore to avoid any appearance of placing the new
Duke above him who had for forty years honourably enjoyed
this pre-eminent distinction, the Duke of Lennox was
created Earl of Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Duke of Rich¬
mond on May 17th, and the following day the Marquis of
Buckingham was advanced to the titles of Earl of Coventry
and Duke of Buckingham. 1

This singular honour satisfied Buckingham highly and
the letter of thanks which he wrote to James is a strange
compound of pride and humility. ‘I can boldly say,’ he
begins, ‘it is not in the power of your large bountiful hand
and heart ever hereafter either to increase my duty and
love to you or to overvalue myself as you do, by thinkin g it
fit that I should be set so far above my fellows.’ Anxious
that he should continue supreme in the King’s affections
he proceeds: ‘I am confident you will never love none of
your servants (I will be saucy here) better than Steenie.’
The letter ends with an acknowledgment of his full measure
of thankfulness to the King for both this new honour and
all the previous gifts and dignities he had been pleased to
bestow: ‘You have filled a consuming purse, given me fair
houses, more land than I am worthy of, filled my coffers to
the full with patents of honour, that my shoulders cannot
bear more... but you have not been content to rest here but
have found out a way which, to my heart’s satisfaction, is
far beyond all: for with this letter, you have furnished my
cabinet with so precious a witness of your valuation of me,

1 The letters patent for the creation of the Duke of Buckingham, dated Green¬
wich, May 18th, are printed in Rymer’s Foedera xvn, 495. The Dukedom
became extinct with the death of his son without issue in 1687, since his daughter
Mary likewise had no surviving children.

107

BUCKINGHAM

3 s in future times it cannot be said, that X rise, as most
courtiers do, through importunity. For which character of
me and incomparable favour from you I will sign with as
contented, nay, as proud a heart—Your poor Steenie,
Duke of Buckingham.’ 1

Buckingham’s family, now in residence at York House,
were no doubt delighted by the news of his accession to
such a supreme dignity. His absence in Spain was keenly
felt by all those most intimately associated with him, and
his letters were the most eagerly awaited events. Rutland,
his father-in-law, tells the Duke how he was having supper
with his wife and sister, when news came that a bearer had
arrived with letters from Spain, whereupon ‘they were so
impatient to see him that some could eat no meat, and when
we did see him and your letter, they were so oveijoyed that
they forgot to eat: nay, my sweet Moll, as she was un¬
dressing, cried nothing but ‘Dad, Dad!’*

Buckingham’s private life seems to have been very happy,
he was a tender and indulgent husband and father, and
retained to the end the love and affection of a devoted
wife. Her chief unhappiness lay in the fact that his
exalted position necessitated these frequent and grievous
absences, but her quiet faith in his fidelity to her persisted
despite the many rumours, so malicious and damaging to
his reputation, which constantly flowed into England. His
name was even connected, to his detriment, with that of the
Countess of Olivares, a woman who, despite her courtesy
to him, was far too old and deformed to have appealed to
him in any amorous fashion. But the greatness of his wife’s
love raised her above such gossip and she was able to
affirm, again and again, that ‘there never was a woman
loved a man as I do you’, in her letters to her husband.

1 Hardwicke, State Papers, i, p. 454.

1 Goodman, Court of King James , 11, p. 29.

108

THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM WITH HIS FAMILY
From the portrait by Gerard Honthurst in the National Portrait Gallery

By courtesy of the National Pot trait (lallerv

AT THE SPANISH COURT

These letters show Buckingham in a new and intimate
light, as a man much beloved in his own little family circle.
He took a keen interest in his domestic affairs, and by
every post full particulars had to be sent to him concerning
the welfare and progress of his little daughter, Moll, who
seems to have been a child after her father’s own heart,
since, although she could not yet walk, she possessed
already an inherent sense of rhythm — ‘when the saraband
is played she will get her thumb and finger together, offer¬
ing to snap: and then when Tom Duff is sung she will shake
her apron, and when she hears the tune of the clapping
dance my lady Frances Herbert taught the Prince she will
clap both her hands together and on her breast’. It is small
wonder that James loved to play with this merry little lady,
whose gaiety must have reminded him strongly of his
absent favourite.

The same letter which conveyed these entertaining items
of news to Buckingham afforded him further proof of the
staunch quality of his wife’s devotion. The Duchess was
sending him some pearls for his personal adornment, and
laughingly added that they would never help him to win
the ladies’ hearts, since he himself was a far greater jewel
and, unaided, would win the heart of any lady in the world.
Yet she had no fear of his possible infidelity, telling him: ‘I
am confident it is not in their power to win your heart from
a heart that is, was, and ever shall be, yours till death.
Everybody tells me how happy I am in a husband and
how chaste you are: that you will not look at a woman and
yet how they woo you. Sir Francis Cottington was yester¬
day telling of me how you made a vow not to touch any
woman till you saw me — God make me thankful for giving
you me!’ 1 Balthazar Gerbier, a painter who had proved
invaluable to the Duke in many of his artistic transactions,

1 Goodman, Court of King. James, n, p. 279.

109

BUCKINGHAM

substantiated in one of his letters this evidence of the
Duchess’s devotion. He had been forced to complete the
large portrait of Buckingham so that she might have it ‘as
her sweet saint’ always near her bed. A miniature of the
Duke, which Gerbier had also painted, had found a royal
resting place, for in one of his letters James told Bucking¬
ham affectionately: ‘I have no more to say but that I wear
my Steenie’s picture in a blue ribbon under my waistcoat
next to my heart .’ 1 One who could so command the affec¬
tion of those with whom he came into intimate contact
must have been endowed with no small nobility of charac¬
ter, and it is generally admitted, even by his severest critics,
that Buckingham’s kindness, courtesy and generosity in
private life were unbounded. To the King and the
Prince he was a genial comrade, to the Duchess a tender
and devoted husband, who had placed her in his heart
as sole mistress. His affection for those of his own blood
transported him beyond all measures of prudence, and in
its excess became a fault. His absence in Spain left a space
in his domestic circle which could not easily be filled, and
many were the importunate requests for his return.

The King especially grieved at the absence of his son and
the one who was his son in all but name. The depth of his
fondness for Charles and Buckingham, together with his
urgent desire that they should conclude the Spanish
negotiations and return home, renders more intelligible
the strange powers which, at this juncture, he vested in
them. On the heels of their previous letter intimating that
the dispensation had arrived clogged with conditions, came
a curious epistle from Charles himself. ‘Sir,’ he wrote, ‘I do
find that if I have not somewhat under your Majesty’s
to show, whereby you engage yourself to do whatsoever
I shall promise in your name, that it will retard the business

1 Goodman, u, p. 357.
no

AT THE SPANISH COURT

a great while; whereby I humbly beseech your Majesty to
send me a warrant to this effect: “We do hereby promise
by the word of a King, that whatsoever you, our son, shall
promise in our name we shall punctually perform.” Sir,
I confess this is an ample trust that I desire, and if it were
not mere necessity I should not be so bold.’ Whether two
such inexperienced and impetuous beings were competent
to wield the full authority of kingship seems to have
weighed little with James, in comparison with the affection
and trust he reposed in them. So he could not refuse their
exorbitant request. ‘It were a strange trust that I would
refuse to put upon my only son and my best servant,’ he
fondly replied, ‘I know such two as ye are will never
promise in my name but what may stand with my con¬
science, honour and safety and all these I do fully trust to
any one of you two .’ 1

These were brave words, but the King must have felt a
growing anxiety at the delay. In spite of his affectionate
letter to the Infanta, expressing his longing for the happiness
of her presence, the Prince’s ship, elaborately fitted as if to
receive a goddess, still lay in dock and Rutland’s fleet
awaited orders to sail. The elusive lady showed no eager¬
ness to visit our shores. In the meantime the populace
openly expressed their dislike of the Spaniard, and even
James himself, reports a Venetian, perforce exclaimed,
when speaking of the chapel he was to build for the Infanta,
‘We are building a temple to the devil!’

Yet, s tifling his forebodings, the King briskly proceeded
with the preparations for the Infanta’s reception. St.
James’s Palace was being enlarged, a chapel added, and
all the rooms were to be refurnished, the present furniture
being altogether too mean in quality for Their Highnesses.

The Lord Chamberlain remarks, ‘the expense will be

1 Hardwicks, State Papers , i, pp. 417, 4 * 9 -
ill

BUCKINGHAM

heavy’ _ more he dare not say, but more than one voice
must have been heard to mutter against this extravagance
in times when the Crown, at any rate, had fallen into
poverty. In addition, Durham House was to be fitted up
for the Spanish grandees, and remembering the glorious
reception the Spaniards had given his two boys the King
was anxious that all should be fitting in England. He
frequently visited the buildings himself to inspect what had
been done, whilst Hamilton, Middlesex, Pembroke and
Richmond were dispatched to Southampton to see that all
preparations were made for the Princess’s arrival. By
May 26th Rutland had received orders to leave for Spain,
and only a contrary wind — a fortunate one, as it turned
out — prevented his immediate departure.

On June 14th two important personages arrived at
Dover — the Marquis of Inijosa, who had been sent from
Spain as extraordinary ambassador, and Sir Francis
Cottington, bearing the Prince’s wretched tidings to his
father. Inijosa was received at Dover, where coaches had
been awaiting him for eight days. As he disembarked he
was saluted by the guns of Rutland’s fleet and by the Castle
artillery. At Barham Downs he was met by Sir Dudley
Digges and a troop of knights and gentlemen who, after a
mutual exchange of compliments, escorted him as far as
Canterbury. In the Cathedral city he was magnificently
received by the Mayor and his brethren, handsomely
attired in scarlet gowns, whilst a band had been engaged in
order to give an air of festivity to the occasion. The mayoral
equipage escorted him to his lodging, and gave him a guard
of twenty men in livery — no doubt he needed it, for the
temper of the people must have been at boiling point!

Meanwhile, Cottington’s steed was bearing him with all
haste to Greenwich, where he arrived that same evening,
and appearing before the King, poured out the whole

ifp

AT THE SPANISH COURT

miserable history of the past four weeks. The recital
realized James’s worst apprehensions. As he listened to the
story of the debates in die Junta, the decision to keep the
Infanta for another year, the full extent of the folly of this
rash undertaking must have become clearly visible to him.
But he was dealt a crowning blow by the suggestion that
Charles might, if he wished, stay an extra year in Madrid.
In the abandonment of his grief, he seized his pen and
wrote impetuously: ‘My sweet Boys, your letter by Cotting-
ton hath strucken me dead. I fear it shall very much
shorten my days, and I am the more perplexed that I know
not how to satisfy the people’s expectation here neither
know I what to say to our Council for the fleet that must
be stayed, and I know not what reason I shall pretend for
the doing of it. But as for my advice and directions that ye
crave in case they will not alter their decree, it is, in a word,
to come speedily away if ye can get leave, and give over all
treaty. And this I speak without respect of any security
they can offer you, except ye never look to see your old
dad again, whom I fear ye shall never see, if ye see him not
before winter. Alas! I now repent me sore that ever I
suffered you to go away. I care for match, nor nothing, so
that I may have you in my arms again. God grant it!
God grant it! God grant it! Amen! Amen! Amen! ...
God bless you both, my only sweet son and my only best
sweet servant and God send you a happy and joyful meeting
in the arms of your dear dad.’ 1

The headstrong young men in Spain now completely
filled the King’s horizon — England counted for nothing,
and, with a magnificent disregard for her sturdy national¬
ism, James proceeded to bargain away the very breath of
her body to secure the safety of the Prince, who was cer¬
tainly in no danger, beyond that of his own folly. The

1 Hahdwicke, State Papers, i, p. 421.

“3

H

BUCKINGHAM

King, Conway was instructed to write to. Buckingham,
would ratify the obnoxious marriage-articles and the
marriage could proceed by proxy if only Charles and he
would return home immediately. Whether James ever
realized that he was, in effect, agreeing to the re-establish-
ment of Roman Catholicism on an official basis in Great
Britain is doubtful. In all fairness to him, we must re¬
member that he was growing old, he had suffered terrible
anxiety for some months, and was in ill health bodily, so
that his customary prudence forsook him at this point, and
he was ready to fling all to the winds to secure a sight of his
beloved Baby Charles and Steenie.

Of all this none but Conway and the King knew for
some time. The staying of the fleet was put down to an un¬
avoidable delay, but the absence of all news told its own
story. ‘This deep silence tells of bad news to understanding
ears, 5 writes a Venetian. ‘His Majesty seems melancholy,
and is upset by anything, and one may call him incapable
of either consolation or counsel.’ 1 There seemed to be a
general feeling that Charles and Buckingham had bungled
the whole affair. The King tried to smile and go about as
usual, but this same observant Venetian saw his efforts
only as ‘art and dissimulation 5 , noticing that as the time
passed his condition bordered upon stupidity. By now
James had become obsessed by the notion that he would
never see his beloved son again in this life, and, it is said,
broke down and wept passionately in the presence of his
personal servants.

Whilst his father was eating out his heart in fruitless re¬
morse, Charles occupied his time in trying to change the
mind of the Spanish Government — a singularly futile task.
For once, he worked alone, except for the advice of Bristol,
which was usually too sensible to appeal to him. Bucking-

1 Valaresso to the Doge, May 26th, 1623, Cal. S. P. Ven. (1623-25), p. 23.

114

AT THE SPANISH COURT

ham, it will be noticed, had ceased to play an active part
in the negotiations. By the beginning of July it was com¬
mon talk at the Spanish Court that the whole affair was
under the control of Bristol. Buckingham was, apparently,
thoroughly disgusted with the Spaniards, condemning their
proceedings root and branch, and declaring them guilty of
the grossest duplicity. For once, Buckingham could see
clearly. He objected principally to the demand for liberty
of conscience accompanying the dispensation, feeling that
the Spaniards were breaking their word. His distrust was
complete, he realized the uselessness of further debate, and
voiced his feelings so openly that Charles, it is said, was
driven to remonstrate with him for his ‘harsh methods 5 . 1
Perhaps this sobered Buckingham a little, since quarrel
with the Prince even he dared not, so he prepared to wait
patiently, if disapprovingly, for the end of these tedious
negotiations. But his position was unenviable. He was
cordially disliked at the Spanish Court, on account of his
violent temper, and he had had a sharp altercation with
Olivares. The two favourites had almost come to the point
of a duel — poor James would have shed a bitter tear at the
thought of his beloved Steenie at the end of a Spaniard’s
rapier — but common sense had made them patch up the
breach, at least outwardly. Yet beneath the surface resent¬
ment still smouldered, serving only to add fresh complica¬
tions to an already bewildering situation.

1 Comer to the Doge, July ist, 1623, Cal. S. P. Ven. (1623-25), p. 5 1 -

115

CHAPTER VI

DEADLOCK

The situation in Spain must have been galling to the hearts
of the growing body of Protestant patriots in England.
This foolish undertaking had led the nation into a most
humiliating position abroad, and made her the laughing
stock of foreign countries. Whichever way she now moved
it seemed impossible to save her honour and dignity. The
vicissitudes of the past few months’ diplomacy had resulted
in a deadlock from which there was no easy way out. If
James were to accept the marriage articles — as he had
already intimated his readiness to do — he would be maVmg
an impossible promise, and once Parliament were sum¬
moned to ratify the Roman Catholic demands the outcome
was a foregone conclusion. England would rise against her
King. Olivares had foreseen this when he had offered a
Spanish army to suppress such a rebellion. On the other
hand, to refuse to accept the marriage articles meant that
Charles must make a humiliating return home, balked in
his main object. The next move was fraught with diffi¬
culty, as Charles himself must have realized, and so with
characteristic indecisiveness he decided to let the present
stalemate prevail for a few more weeks, at any rate, hoping
against hope that the Spanish theologians might miracu¬
lously change their minds.

This line of policy was conveyed to James in a letter
which reveals with astonishing clearness the warped nature
of Charles s code of honour, and his incapability of straight
dealing. Apparently his glowing optimism led him to ex¬
pect that shortly the opinions of these ‘busy divines’ would

116

CHAPTER VI

DEADLOCK

The situation in Spain must have been galling to the hearts
of the growing body of Protestant patriots in England.
This foolish undertaking had led the nation into a most
humiliating position abroad, and made her the laughing
stock of foreign countries. Whichever way she now moved
it seemed impossible to save her honour and dignity. The
vicissitudes of the past few months’ diplomacy had resulted
in a deadlock from which there was no easy way out. If
James were to accept the marriage articles — as he had
already intimated his readiness to do — he would be making
an impossible promise, and once Parliament were sum¬
moned to ratify the Roman Catholic demands the outcome
was a foregone conclusion. England would rise against her
King. Olivares had foreseen this when he had offered a
Spanish army to suppress such a rebellion. On the other
hand, to refuse to accept the marriage articles meant that
Charles must make a humiliating return home, balked in
his main object. The next move was fraught with diffi¬
culty, as Charles himself must have realized, and so with
characteristic indecisiveness he decided to let the present
stalemate prevail for a few more weeks, at any rate, hoping
against hope that the Spanish theologians might miracu¬
lously change their minds.

This line of policy was conveyed to James in a letter
which reveals with astonishing clearness the warped nature
of Charles’s code of honour, and his incapability of straight
dealing. Apparently his glowing optimism led him to ex¬
pect that shortly the opinions of these ‘busy divines’ would

116

DEADLOCK

be overridden and the Infanta on her way to England. In
consequence James was to lose no time in putting into
effect the favours required towards the Roman Catholics.
For the rest, we will let Charles speak for himself: c We send
you the articles as they are to go, the oaths private and
public you and your Baby are to take, and the Council’s
oath. If you scare at the least clause of your private oath
(wherein you swear that Parliament shall revoke all the
penal laws against the Papists in three years) we thought it
good to tell you that if you think you may do it in that time,
if you do your best and it take not effect you have not
broken your word. This promise is only a security that you
will do your best.’ 1 Already Charles was showing that
duplicity which, nearly twenty years later, was to lead him
to the scaffold.

Olivares, knowing that -unless the Prince were con¬
verted — which he now realized to be hopeless — this
marriage would be most distasteful both to the Infanta and
the people of Spain, was now playing a waiting game,
hoping to put off the Prince by making impossible demands
upon his religion. Imagine his consternation, therefore,
when on July 7th the Prince appeared before the King of
Spain declaring that he had resolved to accept with his
whole heart what had been proposed to him, both as to the
articles touching religion and as to the security required.
Probably Charles was following the line of advice he had
already offered to his father, and thought it easy enough
afterwards to wriggle out of these promises.

But for the moment his acceptance was received without
question at the Spanish Court, the Infanta was spoken of
generally as the Princess of England and even allowed to
appear in public. The joyful news, together with a request
that the King and Council should take the oath to ratify

1 Hardwicks, State Papers, i, p. 419-

117

BUCKINGHAM

the articles, was sent to England by Lord Andover. Charles
now imagined that once he could secure these two oaths
the Spaniards would forget all about the Parliamentary
ratification. Never was a Prince more misguided. The
astute Olivares had a very clear conception of the part
played by the British Parliament in the constitution and
was playing with the Prince as a cat with a mouse.

Meanwhile in England James was spending his time
arguing with either his conscience or his Council. He could
not forget the ever present horror of his son’s remaining in
captivity in Spain, and eventually decided to agree to the
marriage. On Sunday, July 20th, at a public ceremony in
the Royal Chapel at Whitehall, James officially declared
his acceptance of the marriage articles.

He could have done nothing more inimical to the prin¬
ciple of toleration. By placing the relaxation of the penal
laws upon the basis of a bargain with a hated foreign power,
James had dealt the vigorous spirit of the new era a sharp
rebuff. All the old religious fanaticism was reinforced, and
the gentler spirit of rationalism became too dangerously
synonymous with anti-nationalism to be popular. In Eng¬
land men spoke of the Spaniards in no measured terms,
and we are told how on one occasion when James had
exultantly declared that all the devils in hell could not now
hinder the marriage, a nobleman remarked to his neigh¬
bour that there were none left there, since all had gone to
Spain to conclude this match.

The sen tim ents of the nation were finally voiced in a
letter, written in the name of Archbishop Abbot, but
generally said to be a forgery. This outspoken epistle
assured the King that whenever and however the Prince
should return, the authors of this madcap adventure would
surely be punished by the proper authorities. In fateful
words it spoke of the toleration James now endeavoured to

118

DEADLOCK

set up for the Roman Catholics — ‘It cannot be done with¬
out a Parliament unless your Majesty will let your subjects
see that you now take unto yourself a liberty to throw down
the laws of the land at your pleasure. What dreadful
consequences these things may draw after, I beseech your
Majesty to consider.’ 1 The majority of the country held
the same views, and already a national party was beginning
to appear in opposition to the King and his followers.

Most of this was kept back from the Prince and Bucking¬
ham in Spain, and in his next letter to them on July 21st
the King merely grumbles about the retention of the
Infanta in Spain, which will necessitate the sending of two
fleets — one for the Prince and one for the Infanta the
following year. His chief complaint is on the score of the
expense — ‘If they will not send her till March,’ he writes,
‘let them, in God’s name, send her by their own fleet, and
forget not to make them keep their former conditions anent
the portion, otherwise both my Baby and I are bankrupt
for ever.’*

By now Olivares realized that nothing could apparently
check Charles’s ardour for the marriage, and accordingly
he changed his tactics, bringing pressure to bear on the
Infanta to accept her handsome Prince, now so deeply in
love with her, and thereby achieve the glorious task of con¬
verting Britain. July 25th saw the signing of the marriage
contract, after Charles had taken his most impossible vows,
to which no English Parliament would ever agree. But
fate now interposed another delay in the death of the Pope,
and the ratification of the new Pope must be awaited. It
was not, however, supposed that this would be difficult to
obtain.

The next letter from Spain is written in Buckingham’s
hand, but there is no doubt that he was merely the mouth-

1 Cabala, p. 108. 1 Hardwicke, State Papers, 1, p. 428.

”9

BUCKINGHAM

piece of Charles’s ideas, and had perforce to lend his
signature to sentiments which he did not echo. The
colourful optimism of this letter is that of Charles: ‘We can
now tell you certainly that, by the 29th of your August,
we shall begin our journey and hope to bring her with us
... we have already convinced the Cond£ of Olivares in
this point that it is fit the Infanta come with us before
winter. He is working under-hand with the divines, and,
under colour of the King’s and Prince’s journey, makes
preparations for hers also. Her household is a-settling, and
all the things for her journey: and the Conde’s own words
are he will throw us all out of Spain as soon as he can.’ 1
The request, ‘to send us peremptory commands to come
away’, with which the letter ends is probably the only one
which came straight from the heart of Buckingham. He
longed most passionately to return, even though he knew
that his enemies were awaiting him in England, and that
he was universally condemned as the author of all the
recent misfortune. Under the guise of friendship, a certain
James Wadsworth wrote him a letter revealing the malicious
gossip which centred around his conduct in Spain: ‘It is
reported against you that you sometimes used the Prince
disrespectfully, carrying too hard a hand over him, urging
or exercising your commission too rigorously, causing him
to say and do some things which otherwise he would not do.
That you sat in his chamber at the same table with him,
yea, in indecent manner without breeches, only with your
nightgown, and in public places at the feasts stood with
your back towards the Infanta. That in the main business
you proceeded with much passion and choler, and not
with prudence or discretion. That you were very incon¬
stant, to-day saying one thing, to-morrow another, so that
they durst not rely on you.’* This writer was a malicious

1 Habdwickb, State Papers , i, p. 43a. * Goodman, Court of King James, 11, p.3 14*

120

DEADLOCK

and unprincipled renegade, but there is no doubt that the
news he so venomously related was on the lips of everyone
in England and in Spain. The Spaniards by now detested
the Duke, and blamed him for preventing their much
desired conversion of the Prince.

It is true that Buckingham did conduct himself with
what seemed an audacious familiarity towards the Prince,
but we, who are able to read the undignified and garrulous
letters which were written to him by the King hims elf, are
in a better position to understand this conduct which
appeared so disrespectful to the staid and conventional
Spanish grandees. The violence of his temper, which seems
to have won him no small degree of dislike, most probably
proceeded from the consciousness that the Spaniards were
duping the Prince to serve their own ends. On July 30th
he privately expressed his dissatisfaction with the whole
negotiations in a letter to James. Apparently the Duke had
been prevailed upon by Charles to pay a personal visit to
Olivares and plead his cause, that he might bring the
Infanta away before the spring. In this interview he ad¬
vanced the considerations of James’s own peace of mind
and general health and happiness, the popularity of the
Infanta with the British people, the general state of affairs
in Christendom, and, lastly, his own ‘poor particular cause’,
since he was already laid open to enough malice at home
without bringing the Prince back bound by a contract, but
with no tangible result. Olivares listened to this long
recital with many muttered grumblings, but finally de¬
clared himself bewitched by Buckingham’s advocacy,
although the Duke allows himself to doubt that ‘if there
was a witch in the company, I am sure there was a devil
too’. Buckingham had also tried the effects of his personal
charms and persuasiveness upon the Condessa of Olivares —
who seems to have liked the English favourite — and the

121

BUCKINGHAM

Infanta herself, the result of which was a message from the
Condessa that ‘the King, the Infanta, and the Conde are
the best contented that can be; and that he should not now
doubt his soon going away and to carry the Infanta with
him.’ 1

Already on August 4th Rutland had received his orders
from Secretary Conway to set sail, with extravagant
prayers that his return journey might be blessed with ‘a
wind like a lover’s embracements, neither too strong nor
too slarVj and a sea as smooth as a lady’s face so embraced.’*
So when, on August 10th, the letter from Buckingham
reached James, promising their return, and possibly with
the Infanta, he was beside himself with joy and wrote im¬
peratively that they were to return at once, with or without
that lady, ‘for you must prefer the obedience ye bear to a
father to the love ye carry to a mistress.’*

But the tortuous history of this tangled diplomacy was
again ploughing its course through the mire of further
checks and counter-checks. Buckingham’s fear that a devil
lurked in the company was assuredly being realized, for
now it appeared that the Spanish King utterly refused to
give up his sister before the spring, but declared that, if
Charles pleased, he might marry her now and remain in
Spain, returning home to England the following year. No
doubt, by that time, he was hoping the Infanta might be¬
come a mother, and he would have a double security, in
another heir to the English throne, for the enforcement of
his demands.

Even now Charles, weak and obstinate, could not come
to any definite decision. As may be imagined, Buckingham
was thoroughly enraged and even spoke of starting out to
meet Rutland’s fleet and returning home alone. In the end,

1 Hakdwicke, State Papers, I, p. 433.

* Cal. S. P. Dom. (James I), 1623-25, p. 28.

* Hardwicke, State Papers , 1, p. 447.

122

DEADLOCK

the general feeling of the Prince’s attendants, who were one
and all disgusted with this fresh evidence of Spanish
treachery, resulted in an episode which brought matters to
a head. It so happened that one of the Prince’s attendants
had fallen sick, and, knowing that he was dying, sent for
a Roman Catholic Priest that he might receive the sacra¬
ments of the Roman Church. Whereupon, some of the
Prince’s servants blocked the entrance to the dying man’s
room, and forcibly prevented the priest from entering.
There was an open affray, and Sir Edmund Vemey struck
the clergyman in the face. Although the Prince apologized
and ordered Vemey to leave Madrid, this was not enough
for Philip, who issued orders for the instant dismissal of all
the English Protestants, if Charles wished to remain.

The position had become beyond even Charles’s obsti¬
nate endurance, and, making a virtue of necessity, the
Prince and Duke conveyed to the King their intention to
return immediately, gaily glossing over the miserable
story of the trickery to which Charles had been all but
ready to submit. ‘The cause,’ they wrote, ‘why we have
been so long in writing to you since Cottington’s coming
is that we would try all means possible, before we would
send you word, to see if we could move them to send the
Infanta before winter. They, for form’s sake, called the
divines and they stick to their old resolution, but we find,
from the circumstances, that conscience is not the true, but
the seeming, cause of the Infanta’s stay. To conclude, we
have wrought what we can but since we cannot have her
with us that we desired, our next comfort is that we hope
shortly to kiss your Majesty’s hands.’ 1 Thus miserably
ended the gay adventure of these two ‘sweet knights worthy
to be put in a new romanso’. Seldom had a romance
proved so tedious!

1 Hardwicke, State Papers , i, p. 449.

123

BUCKINGHAM

The verdict of contemporaries laid the chief share of
the blame for the failure of the negotiations upon the
shoulders of Buckingham. Even Bristol, who knew every
turn and twist the diplomacy had taken, placed a large
part of the onus of failure upon Buckingham, and on
August 29th conveyed his opinions to James in language
which he knew well might cost him his head. ‘The truth is,’
he writes, ‘that this King and his ministers are grown to
have so high a dislike of my lord Duke of Buckingham,
and on the one side to judge him to have so much power
with your Majesty and the Prince, and, on the other side,
to be so ill affected to them and their affairs, that unless
your Majesty be pleased in your wisdom either to find
some means of reconciliation, or else to let them see and
be assured that it shall no way be in my Lord of Bucking¬
ham’s power to make the Infanta’s life less happy unto
her, or any way to cross and embroil the affairs betwixt
your Majesties and your Kingdoms, I am afraid your
Majesty will see the effects which you have just cause to
expect from this alliance to follow but slowly and all the
great businesses now in treaty prosper but ill. For I must,
for the discharge of my conscience and duty, without
descending to particulars, let your Majesty truly know that
suspicions and distastes betwixt them all here and my
Lord of Buckingham cannot be at a greater height.’ 1

But however great the hostility aroused by Buckingham
in the breasts of the Spanish grandees, the verdict of
history relieves him of the chief burden of responsibility
for the failure of these negotiations at the Spanish Court.
The Spaniards had played a crooked game all along the
line, fearing the hostility of both the House of Austria and
the House of Stuart — and thereby running the risk of
incurring both. That Philip had no intention, nor,

1 Hardwicke, State Peepers , I, p. 476.

124

DEADLOCK

indeed, any power to effect the restitution of the Palatinate,
was tolerably clear to everyone save the infatuated Prince
and his visionary father. During the Prince’s visit
Olivares had, in an unguarded moment, allowed his real
convictions to pierce the veil of falsehood he had so
elaborately woven. Charles had declared to him that,
should negotiations for peace in Europe fail, the Spanish
King would surely be willing to assist Frederick’s cause
with his army. He must have received a sharp rebuff when
Olivares replied frankly, ‘Even if the Emperor were to give
the King a blow in the face and to call him a knave, it
would be impossible for his Majesty to abandon him or
become his enemy. If he can preserve the friendship of
the King of England as well as that of the Emperor, well
and good. But if not, we ought to break with England
even if we had a hundred Infantas married there.’ 1

On another occasion, when all seemed to be going well,
Olivares said good humouredly to the Prince and Duke:
‘Now certainly it must be a match, and the devil himself
could not break it.’ At this Buckingham sardonically
replied that ‘he thought so too, and that the match had
need be firm and strong, it had been seven years in the
soldering’.* Throwing discretion to the winds, Olivares
proceeded to tell them that it had not been seriously in¬
tended in Spain for more than the last seven months and
even went so far as to show them Philip’s letter, which
required him to put an end to the negotiations. To make
ma tters worse, the Prince learned from this communication
that apparently not only the present, but also the past
King of Spain had been strongly averse to the proposed
union. *

The Spaniards have not escaped censure for what

1 Gardiner, v, p. 106. „ ,, „ 7 ,

2 Buckingham’s relation to Parliament, Lords Journals , hi, p. zzo.
8 See above, p. 83 f.

125

BUCKINGHAM

appeared to be the vilest trickery. But it must be remem¬
bered that the whole idea of settling the affairs of Europe
by a marriage contract had originated in the fertile
imagination of James. Probably both Charles and his
father tacitly assumed that, once the match were concluded,
Philip would prefer a complete reversal of the hereditary
policy of Spain to a war against his own brother-in-law.
But Philip’s nepotism had not the force of James’s, and the
Spanish King made it clear that nothing definite could be
promised about the Palatinate — Spain was willing to do
her best to negotiate, but failing this, could not draw the
sword against her ancient ally and co-religionist. It was
as likely that the British Parliament would tolerate a repeal
of the penal laws, as that the Spanish people would coun¬
tenance an alliance with Protestant England against
Catholic Austria.

With a greater sagacity than most of his contemporaries,
Bristol had recognized these facts and it was therefore in
an endeavour to ease the troubled state of Christendom
that he had declared himself ready to meet the Catholic
powers half way and to consent to the education of
Frederick’s son at the Imperial Court in Vienna as a neces¬
sary condition of his father’s restoration to the Palatinate.
The wisdom of Bristol’s views was not recognized by
Charles and Buckingham, who later brought them against
him in the House of Lords. Yet Charles made no attempt
to review the situation clearly. Blinded by what he
imagined to be passionate love, he desired to marry the
Infanta above all things, but chose to be deeply wounded
in his pride on finding that Philip was neither able, nor
willing, to partition Europe to the advantage of his family
fortunes. Throughout the negotiations there had been a
mass of misunderstandings on both sides, each sanguinely
imagining he could achieve his own ends by hoodwinking

136

DEADLOCK

the other. There is no doubt that Charles’s arrival in
Madrid had complicated the issue, but even had the
negotiations been left entirely to the ambassadors it is more
than likely that the interests of Spain and Eng l and were too
diametrically opposed for such an alliance to be practicable.
At any rate, as we pursue the story of these Spanish negotia¬
tions, it becomes increasingly evident that the impetuous
conduct of Buckingham, though it irritated the Spaniards
and probably created fresh difficulties, was by no means
the ultimate reason for the breakdown.

At this point Buckingham’s unhappiness at his pro¬
longed absence, together with the galling sense that they
had all been miserably outwitted, combined to produce in
him an ill-health which was to recur after his return to
England. Efts constitution does not appear to have been
too robust, and his highly strung nervous system rendered
him peculiarly susceptible to sharp attacks of ague, accom¬
panied by colds which had in their nature something of a
high fever. Such an attack laid its grip upon him now, so
that on August 20th Charles wrote to his father in his own
hand that he ‘would not let his Dog trouble himself with
writing’ since he was still indisposed and suffering from the
after effects of the feverish chill. With his vigour at a low
ebb, Buckingham now desired to regain his native land as
quickly as possible and as soon as he was well enough he
wrote to James, assuring him of his recovery and his ardent
desire to see his beloved master once again. Their failure
to bring home the Infanta was evidently a sharp thorn in
his side, but he went on to assure James that their decision
to return had not been lightly taken. How exuberant was
his delight at the thought of being once more in the King’s
presence only his own language can adequately convey,
and even then it seems that words had almost failed him:
‘My very soul dances for joy,’ he declared, ‘for the change

127

BUCKINGHAM

will be no less than to leap from trouble to ease, from sad¬
ness to mirth, nay, from hell to heaven. My thoughts are
only bent upon having my dear Dad and Master’s legs soon
in my arms.’ But in the midst of all his joy he still had the
miserable sense of frustration: ‘Sir, I’ll bring all things with
me you have desired, except the Infanta, which hath alm ost
broken my heart, because yours, your son’s and the nation’s
honour is touched by the miss of it: but since it is their
fault here, and not ours, we will bear it the better.’ 1 It may
well be imagined that this intimately personal letter from
the one whom he adored with so strong a passion would
produce in James a mood of melting clemency and a
violent impatience to see his gay, inconsequent and singu¬
larly lovable young favourite once more. Unfortunatdy,
the Spanish proceedings had not revealed to James the
patent fact that whilst his Steenie might be the most ex¬
cellent of courtiers, the gayest and most endearing of
companions, his abilities as a statesman and diplomatist
were strangely lacking. It was misfortune, rather than
fortune, for Buckingham that, upon his return, his royal
master’s weakness allowed him to wield a power for which
he was by nature totally unqualified.

In the meantime, Charles was busy making his adieux
to the ever polite Spaniards. September 9th was the official
date fixed for their departure, and on August 29th the
formal leave taking took place. The King wore deep black
to express his professed sorrow at the Prince’s departing,
whilst the Prince himself maintained a similar sobriety by
wearing no jewels. So great was the surge of spectators that
the guard had to be called into action to keep them back.
The Queen, the Infanta, and all the court ladies were
present, and the Prince first took his leave of the Infanta
privately in French, without the services of an interpreter .

1 Hahdwicke, State Papers, i, pp. 448, 451.

128

DEADLOCK

The formal leave taking in Spanish followed, and lasted
half an hour, Charles assuring the Princess that he would
give the Catholics his full protection, taking especial care
that they should no longer be persecuted.

There was an exchange of rich gifts and jewels on all
sides, and, in spite of his dissatisfaction and general un¬
popularity, Buckingham gave suits of apparel and two
beautiful diamond crosses to two of Olivares 5 servants.

On Saturday, August 30th, the whole court came to the
Palace of the Escurial, whose wonders were displayed to
the En glish visitors. They could not but admire the beauty
of its spacious halls, its wonderful library, its secluded gar¬
dens and cloistered walks. Indeed, many of the English
nobles were afterwards heard to remark that it deserved
the title of the ‘Eighth Wonder of the World 5 . Anxious to
feast the Prince royally to the very end, the King had
arranged many masques for his entertainment and far into
the night the strains of music were heard in the gaily
illumined gardens of the Escurial.

The formal leave taking of Charles and the King of Spain
took place in a little field near the Escurial, and a pillar was
later erected to commemorate the spot. 1 The farewell was
accompanied by the most affectionate demonstrations on all
sides, but Buckingham was not present at these ceremonials.
Indeed, a few hours earlier, he had had but a stormy part¬
ing with Olivares. It was ever Buckingham’s custom to hit
straight from the shoulder and declare to his enemy the
full extent of his displeasure. Never do we find him pro¬
fessing fair intentions whilst directing an underhand blow.
On this occasion he told Olivares that he was obliged to
the King, Queen and the Infanta in an eternal tie of grati¬
tude, and that he would be an everlasting servant to them

1 ‘The joyful return of the most illustrious Prince Charles from the Court of
Spain.' Trans, from a pamphlet in Spanish by Andrea de Mendoza. Printed in
Nichols, Progresses of James I, hi, p. 9 ° 7 -

I 129

BUCKINGHAM

and endeavour to do his best offices for conclu ding the
match and strengthening the amity between the two
crowns. But as for himself, he had so far disobliged him
that he could not, without flattery, make the least profession
of friendship to him. Olivares accepted the rebuff squarely,
and replied in curt tones that he appreciated what he had
spoken. Thereupon Buckingham, after taking his leave of
die King, set off alone on horseback by his own wish,
although the heat of the sun was very excessive, on the pre¬
text of going to find the English fleet which was now due
at Santander. With such a parting fresh in their memory
the Spaniards were now fully prepared to find the Duke
using all his efforts in England towards the frustration of
the match, and according to a Venetian at the court of
Spain his ‘evil disposition to this crown’ 1 was the principal
topic of conversation after his departure.

The Prince soon joined his friend and together they rode
towards the seaport of Santander. Early one morning,
when they were only about six miles away from then-
destination, a messenger met them, bearing the joyous
news of the arrival of Rutland’s fleet. Whereupon Charles
gazed at him, as he afterwards expressed it, ‘as upon one
who had the face of an angel’. * The Duke of Buckingham’s
joy burst all bounds, and after kissing the bearer he drew
from his finger a diamond ring worth more than a hundred
pounds and gave it to him as a present.

On Sunday, September 14th, Charles gave a farewell
banquet to the Spanish grandees who had accompanied
him to Santander on board his vessel The Prince, and four
days later the anchors were weighed and the swelling sails
courted the breeze in all their white splendour, praying it
to speed them on their journey. The Spaniards stood upon

>N>™™°£ eDo8e ’ ?°J- 6th v 16231 Ced - s - p ' V**' (1623-25). p-144.

* Nichols, Progress# of Jam# I, m, p. 909,

130

DEADLOCK

the shore, the Prince, Buckingham, and all the other Eng¬
lish nobles on deck, expressing their farewells in dumb
show. And so we leave the Prince and his company to the
wings of the prosperous winds which were to bear them
safely to the English shore.

CHAPTER VII

AFTERMATH

After seven days at sea, on a Sunday afternoon in early
October, the Prince and Buckingham with their retinue
landed at Portsmouth, thankful to be on English soil again.
They had brought with them an ambassador extra¬
ordinary from Spain in the .person of Mendoza, for the
marriage negotiations were not considered to be aban¬
doned, despite the fact that the Prince had returned empty
handed. Full powers of proxy had been left behind with
the Earl of Bristol, and the marriage was to be concluded
as soon as the Papal ratification should arrive. But for the
general populace it was enough that Charles had come
back unaccompanied by the hated Spanish Infanta, and
great were the rejoicings on all sides. The Duke of Buck¬
ingham was hailed by one and all as the saviour of the
nation. He found a new and quite unexpected role await¬
ing him —that of popular hero —and he discovered it
singularly satisfactory.

Immediately they landed the Prince and Buckingham
set off Londonwards with all possible speed, but were
forced to rest for the night at Lord Annan’s house near
Guildford, whence they proceeded early next morning to
York House, where they held an informal and secret
council meeting. The Spanish Ambassador, with most
pressing importunity, had demanded an audience and been
summarily denied. From York House the two ‘adventurous
knights’ sped to Royston, where an eager James awaited
than. From a window he espied them approaching and in
his impatience to be with them proceeded as quickly as his

132

AFTERMATH

infirm old legs would carry him down the stairs, where he
met them. The Prince and the Duke immediately fell upon
their knees, and the King, bending towards them, embraced
them heartily, and all three wept together — tears of joy for
this delightful and long-awaited reunion. After a while
they retired into the King’s private suite, shutting out their
retinue, who nevertheless seem to have remained within
earshot, hoping to catch something of the conversation.
The eavesdroppers, however, heard but little — ‘sometime
a still voice, and then a loud, sometime they laughed and
sometime they chafed’. At supper the outcome of the
mysterious interview was made quite clear, for James pro¬
fessed himself satisfied that nothing had been achieved by
the visit, since he now saw distinctly that the Spaniards had
never intended the restitution of the Palatinate, without
which he had no desire to negotiate, for ‘he liked not to
marry his son with a portion of his daughter’s tears ’. 1

On the way to Royston the Prince had been met every¬
where by a rejoicing populace. ‘I have not heard of more
demonstrations of public joy than were here and every¬
where: and from the highest to the lowest,’ writes a con¬
temporary. Tables were set out in the street, groaning
under all manner of food, with whole hogsheads of wine
and butts of sack, whilst every street comer had its bonfire.
At Blackheath there were forty loads of wood in one fire.
So maddened with joy were the people, that if they chanced
to meet a cart laden with wood, they took out the horses,
and then set fire to the cart and its load. * Taylor, the Water
Poet, aptly observes that even the elements seemed to take
part in the general rejoicings. ‘The four elements, fire,
water, air and earth seemed to applaud the celebration of
this happy and welcome day: for the heavens most abun-

1 Hacket, Scrirda Reserata , Part I, p. 165.

* Cal . S. P. Bom. (James I), 1623-35, p. 93.

133

BUCKINGHAM

dantly poured down a shower of rain of nine hours’ con¬
tinuance, which the dry and thirsty earth drank most
greedily, or as I may say, most lovingly, to the health of so
joyful and auspicious a solemnity.’ 1 At St. Paul’s there was
a solemn service, where a new anthem was sung — the 14th
Psalm: ‘When Israel came out of Egypt, and the House of
Jacob from the barbarous people.’ But those who had the
greatest cause for rejoicing at the Prince’s return were
certain condemned prisoners, whose cart, carrying them
to Tyburn, had chanced to cross Charles’s path, whereupon
he graciously reprieved them and they were all set at
liberty.

‘The Duke of Buckingham’s carriage in all the business
is much applauded and commended,’ says a news writer.
Rumour had it that only the Duke’s impatience had pre¬
vented the marriage from taking place on Christmas Day.
So Buckingham was regarded generally as the deliverer of
the nation from Spanish bondage, and verses were com¬
posed congratulating him upon dissipating the general
fear, and, like the Prince’s good genius, bringing him
safely home. The anti-Spanish feeling was fostered by the
stories which many of the English noblemen, newly re¬
turned from Spain, now began to spread abroad. They
denounced the Spanish grandees violently, declaiming
them as full of penury and proud beggary. A contemporary,
in reflective vein, remarks: ‘This journey hath wrought one
unexpected effect, that whereas it was thought the
Spaniards and we should piece and grow together, it seems
we are generally more disjointed and further asunder in
affections than ever.’*

On October 30th the Prince, the Duke, and Secretary
Calvert came up to London, to determine the future line
of policy to be pursued with regard to the Spanish negotia-

1 Somers, Tracts, ix, p. 55a. * Cal. S. P. Dom. (James I), 1623-25, pp. 103-105.

134

AFTERMATH

tions. The following day the Duke called a very secret
meeting of a few selected councillors at St. James’s Palace,
where he made a relation of the extent to which their visit
had helped to throw light upon the marriage proceedings.
By now the Prince and Buckingham were strongly in
favour of a definite breach with Spain. They represented
to the Council the necessity of calling a Parliament in
order to break oflf the negotiations completely. Bucking¬
ham had tasted of popularity and iound it very sweet. So
pursuing his new role, he now advocated that it was the
right of the people to be consulted on a matter of such
importance. Once they learnt of the fraudulent proceed¬
ings of the Spaniard, the King’s integrity and justice in
withdrawing from the contract would be apparent to them.
Already Buckingham had visions of himself, mounted high
upon the wings of the popular affection, as the arch-enemy
of the detested power of Spain.

In their relations of the proceedings to the Council, the
Prince and Duke had laid the onus of the breakdown of
negotiations upon the shoulders of the Earl of Bristol,
who was now in Spain and having as sorry a time as could
be imagined. The Spaniards had no reason to suppose
that the Prince’s word was anything but his bond, and all
preparations for the marriage by proxy were going on
apace. The Infanta was learning to speak English and
publicly took the title of Princess of England, being
acknowledged as such by both Aston and Bristol. Only
one more dispatch from Rome was necessary and the
marriage could take place. But, it was whispered, a
certain Clerk, one of Buckingham’s servants, was reported
to have come to Bristol’s house as soon as the Prince had
gone, and it was generally feared that he had brought
something with him to upset all calculations.

These apprehensions were only too well founded. To

*35

AFTERMATH

comfort.’ 1 He pointed out that the negotiations were
proceeding in quite a straightforward manner, that there
was no reason to despair of Spanish aid in the restitution
of the Palatinate, and that to proceed amicably was
infinitely preferable to withholding the proxy, which
would only occasion distrust and perhaps kindle the
flames of war. After dispatching this letter Bristol
confidently allowed the preparations for the solemnization
of the marriage to proceed, the day was appointed, and a
terrace, covered with tapestry, was raised from the King’s-
palace to the adjacent church. All the chief noblemen and
their ladies had been invited, when four messengers —
Killigree, Gresley, Wood and Davies — arrived from
England, bearing James’s answer to Bristol. The Earl was
commanded not to deliver the proxy until he had obtained
full and absolute satisfaction for the surrender of the
Palatinate, under the hand and seal of the Spanish King.

Recognizing that such a demand virtually ended the
negotiations, Bristol proceeded to acquaint Philip with
James’s request, and received the answer he had anti¬
cipated. Philip declared that such an absolute promise
of restitution was not in his power to give — he might
treat with the Emperor, but could not command him.
But by now the Prince, James and Buckingham had
firmly taken their stand — either the marriage was to be
accompanied by the restitution of the Palatinate or it
would not take place at all. As Charles so naively explained
to Bristol, James, having but two children, would be loth
that one of them should have cause to weep when the
other had reason to laugh. In vain did Bristol pour out
his advice to James in letter after letter. Every day
Buckingham and the Prince were urging the King to make
the restitution of the Palatinate the indispensable condition

1 Hardwicke, State Papers, I, p. 483.

137

BUCKINGHAM

of the marriage, knowing full well that no surer method
could be pursued for creating a breach with Spain. In
their present frame of mind nothing could be so desirable
as war, but James was loth to abandon his position as a
mediator in Europe, and even now fondly imagined that
after dealing Spain this violent insult he could retain the
friendship of the Spanish King.

This probably accounts for the fact that on November
18th we find Buckingham in London, preparing a great
feast at York House to entertain Don Diego de Mendoza,
the Sp anis h Ambassador, and his followers of quality.
But, remarks a contemporary, he seemed to be giving the
entertainment rather pro forma than ex animo. 1 The other
Spanish Ambassador, Inijosa, was to have been present,
but a slight difference of opinion had occurred between
him and Mendoza, so that the Duke sent three large
baskets of provisions round to his house by Endymion
Porter, together with the message, ‘that the Duke kissed his
hands and would have held it an honour and a happiness
to have had his company, but since he would not have it,
he desired him to taste of what he had provided for him,
and that at the tasting of it at his supper he would be
pleased to drink to the health of the King of England, as
he himself would do at the same time to the King of Spain’.
Inijosa contented himself by remarking that the Duke
might have had the pleasure of his company had he pleased
to command it, and that ‘it was easy to conceive what the
feast would be when a taste of it was so rare and plentiful’.
He gave Porter fifty crowns, and after bidding the company
good night retired to sup privately in his own chamber.
Buckingham, who had been reproached by the King for his
scant courtesy to the Spanish Ambassadors since his return,
had evidently set out to surpass himself. The supper was

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (Janies I), 1623-25, p. 103.

138

AFTERMATH

excellent and was followed by a masque, after which there
was a magnificent banquet. A news writer notes ‘the super¬
abundant plenty of the feast, where twelve pheasants were
piled in a dish; there were forty dozen partridges et sic de
caeteris in all kinds of provisions. The banquet cost £300’. 1

But James’s efforts to preserve amity were singularly
vain and the end of November saw the virtual abandon¬
ment of the match at the Spanish Court. The King of
Spain could not stomach such a patent insult as had been
dealt him in the delaying of the proxy, so the temporary
terrace along which the Infanta was to have walked from
the Palace to the Church was dismantled, the English
teachers were dismissed, and the Infanta ceased to call
herself Princess of England. The marriage was postponed
indefinitely. The Prince matched these actions by giving
the golden ewer with which the Queen of Spain had pre¬
sented him to one of his footmen, and when one day the
Infanta sent him a present of sweetmeats he gave them to
some of his servants with contempt, scarcely deigning to
look at them.

Pursuing the delightful role of popular hero, Buckingham
now began to urge upon James the necessity of summoning
Parliament, for he was anxious both to vindicate himself
before the nation’s representatives and to obtain the
necessary funds for the conduct of a war against Spain.
But the King was spending his time formulating one
frenzied scheme after another for the settlement of Euro¬
pean affairs, and lent a very reluctant ear to his favourite’s
cajolery. The present situation was more than trying to
him. He had just suffered a sharp attack of gout and his
physical pain only served to accentuate his mental torture.
Never had his fatal indecision been more patent. Whilst he
had moments when he was going to set Europe ablaze, with

1 Nichols, Progresses of James I, m, p. 939.

139

» BUCKINGHAM

the aid of Turkish troops, further reflection caused his war¬
like ardour to die a speedy death, and the peaceful pro¬
pensities of a lifetime once more stirred within him. For¬
getting his erstwhile enthusiasm, his eyes would fill with
tears, as he asked the Prince plaintively, ‘Would you engage
me in a war in my old days and make me quarrel with
Spain?’ 1

■ Yet, as may be imagined, Buckingham’s importunity
won the day, and on December 28th James signed the
warrant ordering the Lord Keeper to issue writs for a
Parliamentary election. Bristol was commanded to return
to England, and it was generally considered that the
Spanish negotiations were terminated.

James had given way to Buckingham in the face of his
own most treasured convictions, and it was clear that in so
doing he had surrendered a large portion of his royal
authority to his favourite. During these fateful days of
December the real direction of affairs passed over to the
Duke, who, from this moment until his death four years
later, was the virtual ruler of Great Britain.

With an inadequate appreciation of the difficulties of the
European situation, Buckingham now considered a war
against Spain and the Empire an airy trifle, to be entered
upon lightly, despite the fact that England was totally un¬
prepared, her army negligible, her navy quite deficient, and
her resources utterly unfit to meet the heavy strain of such
a struggle. He awaited eagerly the Parliament which was
to give him its sanction and support, and was furious, there¬
fore, when he learnt that James had again begun to treat
with the Spanish Ambassadors who, on January 13 th, had
made him an offer to open negotiations whereby an agree¬
ment on the Palatinate question might be reached between
the two countries.

1 Gahdinbr, v, p. 157.
140

AFTERMATH

In spite of Buckingham’s opposition James now brought
forward this new development for the consideration of the
Commissioners for Spanish Affairs, who were asked to vote
upon two questions. Firstly, had the King of Spain ever
seriously intended that the marriage should take place?
Secondly, was a declaration of war justifiable on the
grounds of his conduct with regard to the Palatinate
question? There were only two who voted to the Duke’s
satisfaction — Conway, who was his creature, and Car¬
lisle, who had no reason to love the Spaniard. The Prince,
who had been present at the proceedings, preserved his
usual taciturnity at the unfavourable vote, but Buckingham ,
flew into one of his famous rages and, pacing up and down
the room frantically, rated the Councillors in no measured
terms. He left the room in a violent temper, accompanied
by the Prince, and the two decided to go post haste to New¬
market that they might acquaint James with what had just
happened. Sir Arthur Chichester, who chanced to pass
them as they left Whitehall, was both puzzled and alarmed
at the words Buckingham bitterly flung at him, ‘What, are
you turned, too?’, for he knew nothing of the recent
trouble and trembled at the thought of having given offence
all unwittingly to the powerful favourite. Such petulance,
whilst it might increase men’s fear of Buckingham, did not
show his character in a pleasant light and only lowered him
in their good opinion. His rage was perhaps appeased
after the interview with the King, who had no wish that
the whole story of the Spanish negotiations should be laid
before his Co mmissi oners. After further debate it was
decided to refer the whole question to Parliament, the
elections for which were now almost complete.

On Thursday, February 19th, 1624, King James rode to
meet his fourth and last Parliament with greater show and
pomp than had been previously seen on such occasions.

141

BUCKINGHAM

An eyewitness, who had gone specially to see the Prince
notices that ‘he is grown a fine gentleman, and beyond all
expectation I had of him when I saw him last, which was
not these seven years; and, indeed, I think he never looked
nor became himself better in all his life’. 1 This mar ked
improvement in Charles strengthened the pop ular ity of
Buckingham, for it was observed on all sides that his
association with the Duke had not been to the disadvantage
of the Prince.

The King made a very gracious and plausible speech to
Parliament, marked, however, by greater humility and less
dogmatism than was his wont. After outlining the various
negotiations in which he had been engaged to settle the
peace of Christendom, he spoke of the long delays inter¬
posed by the Spaniards against the marriage project, so
that he had allowed his son to go to Spain, and had thereby
discovered how fallacious were the treaties. The full story
of the Spanish proceedings was to be related to them by
the Secretary, with the assistance of the Prince and Buck¬
ingham, and upon their good advice the felicity of the
nation now depended. The veto set upon their freedom of
speech in the last Parliament was thus removed. On the
graver question of the treatment of the Roman Catholics,
James declared that he never intended this to be anything
more than a temporary alleviation of the penal laws. After
a few more well chosen and flattering phrases, James
delegated his authority to the one who waited upon the
very steps of the throne.

This was Buckingham’s supreme moment. The inferior
role assigned to him in the King’s speech was by no means
palatable, and long before the day which had been fixed
for the narration to the Houses it was learnt that the Duke
h i m self would relate the account of the Spanish negotia-

1 CaL S. P. Horn. (James I), 1623-25, p. 168.

AFTERMATH

dons to Parliament, whilst the Prince and Secretary stood
by to corroborate his evidence. The Houses were to meet
not in the Painted Chamber, but in the Great Hall at
Westminster where they were wont to assemble before the
King. A more patent assumption of regal dignity could not
be imagined!

On the appointed day Buckingham awaited the Houses
in the Great Hall, and to those who were gathered there in
all eagerness to hear his story, that tall handsome figure,
invested in their eyes with all the outward signs of sove¬
reignty, must have made a picture to live in the imagination
for many a long day. The Duke had a lengthy tale to tell,
and one which investigation has shown was little more than
a half truth. He had come back from Spain profoundly
impressed with her inherent weakness, and more than
convinced of the duplicity of her rulers. It was, therefore,
in a rancorous mood towards all thing s Sp anish tha t he
proceeded to make his historic relation.

The narrative contained nothing which was not strictly
true — its faults lay rather in its very grave omissions.
Buckingham produced evidence against the Spaniards
which, to an excited Parliament, was more than conclusive.
In the first place he revealed the da mning story of Olivares’
indiscreet words to Porter during the embassy of 1622,
‘That for the match he knew nothing of it’, and then pro¬
ceeded to acquaint the Houses with the suggestion which
he personally had received from the Spanish favourite to
the effect that, once the Prince were converted, the mar¬
riage could proceed without Papal assistance. Worse was
yet to come. The Spaniards had declared that even were
the Emperor to beat and buffet them they could never
fight against him. So much for England’s hopes of resto ring
the Palatinate to Frederick by Spanish aid. More in¬
criminating still was the feet that Olivares had disclosed to

H3

BUCKINGHAM

Charles and Buckingham the information that for these
many years the Spanish negotiations had been little more
an elaborate comedy, played with the idea of deceiv¬
ing the English King, in proof of which he could show them
correspondence from Philip himself declaring that neither
he nor his father, the late King, had any serious intention
of allowing the marriage to take place.

Whether Buckingham realized that he was drawing a
veil over all that might be considered detrimental to his
own cause it is difficult to decide. Even allowing for the
fact that he usually let his vivid imagination run away
with himj it must appear incredible to a dispassionate
critic that he could see no folly in the madcap dash across
Europe, no duplicity in Charles’s rash promises and con¬
tinual evasions of the religious issue when in Spain, or no
unseemliness in his own provocative behaviour towards the
Spanish ministers. He had blamed Charles severely
enough for his temporization during the visit — why, then,
should it now appear less blameworthy?

It is most probable that Buckingham, with a shrewdness
unusual in him, had accurately gauged the temper of the
Commons and was playing finely upon their emotions.
He had carried their feelings up to fever pitch by one
dramatic revelation after another, and now at the psy¬
chological moment crowned his oratory with language
which he knew could not fail to make its appeal. ‘Shall
we endure further Spanish diplomacy, or, setting treaties
aside, let His Majesty trust his own strength and stand upon
his own feet?’ 1 he cried to the excited Houses, and the
historic Hall echoed to the cheers of approbation which
must have sounded sweet in the ears of him who had found
himself so unexpectedly the most popular man in Britain.

This popularity was indubitably assured by the events

1 The relation is printed in Lords' Journals, m, pp. *20-3*.

144

AFTERMATH

which followed his declaration. Beside themselves with
indignation, the two Spanish Ambassadors, Inijosa and
Coloma, hastened to James on February 26th, and laid a
formal complaint against Buckingham, asserting that had
any of their ministers spoken against the English Ring as
he had spoken against the King of Spain, he would have
paid the penalty with his head. Completely at a loss for
an answer, James proceeded to ask the two Houses — who,
having heard the relation, were in a position to judge
it — for their opinion.

The reply of the Lords in the Duke’s favour could not
have been more definite or unanimous, and so great was
the anti-Spanish fervour in the Upper House that even
the Bishop of Durham declared himself ready to lay aside
his rochet and gird on a sword if the King would take the
course of war. The Commons went even further in their
emotional demonstrations. Carried away by excitement,
Phelips uttered extravagant speeches lauding Buckingham
at the expense of the Spaniard and expressing the hope
that the Duke would ‘keep his head on his shoulders to see
thousands of Spaniards’ heads drop either from their
shoulders or into the seas’. More fiery still were the words
of the intrepid Coke, who voiced the general opinion when
he cried: ‘Shall he lose his head? Never any man
deserved better of his King and Country!’ By a unanimous
vote he was declared exempt from any blame as regards
the form of his narrative. As a demonstration of their trust
in him, a few members suggested that all his lands and
honours should be confirmed to him by Act of Parliament,
but it was replied that this was no time to commend
individuals, though no doubt he deserved well. 1 To both
Houses the King now declared — by way of increasing
their general satisfaction — that he cordially agreed with

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (James I), 16*3-25, pp. 194, X 97 «

K 145

BUCKINGHAM

their verdict, and had, in any case, been quite ready to
accept Buckingham’s unsupported testimony. He was now
able to reveal to them that Buckingham had spent £4000
of his own money whilst he was in Spain, and never
expected a penny of it back; that his judgment and
diligence were a pattern to all ambassadors, and that his
being such a good servant naturally made himself a good
master.

The afternoon of this same day the Lords resolved that,
subject to the consent of the Commons, the King should
be asked to break off finally all negotiations with Spain,
both for the marriage and the restitution of the Palatinate.
There could be no doubt about the consent of the Commons
— their temper was as strongly anti-Spanish as could have
been desired! On March 1st Sir Benjamin Rudyerd made
a speech in the Lower House upon the recent events.
The Spanish match, he declared, was most injurious to the
state. Through it the Palatinate and almost the entire
Protestant cause abroad had been lost. The Protestants
were scattered and disunited in Germany, suppressed in
France, threatened in Holland. In his opinion the wisest
course for the King to pursue was to declare all treaties
with Spain cancelled, to render assistance to the Low
Countries, reinforce Ireland, strengthen the forts, and
equip the Navy, commencing in real earnest a war for the
Palatinate and the defence of Protestantism. It was
decided by the Commons that a petition should be pre¬
sented to the King embodying the main points of Rudyerd’s
speech.

But to James this speech had seemed very much like
covert criticism of himself and his policy, and he did not
relish the idea of heading a great religious crusade against
the Spanish King. So, to evade the issue, when the
petition was ready to be presented to him on March 3rd

146

AFTERMATH

he declared that he was suffering from a violent cold,
whereby he was prevented from receiving it. Buckingham
was furious at his master’s temporizing, and forcibly
demonstrated the authority he had come to wield over the
King in a most insolent letter, commanding James to
receive the petition and outlining for him the answers he
was to give the Commons! The authenticity of this letter
might well be doubted, were not the original in Bucking¬
ham’s own hand. ‘In obedience to your commands,’ he
wrote boldly, ‘I will tell the Houses of Parliament that
you, having been upon the fields this afternoon, have
taken such a fierce rheum and cough, as, not knowing
how you will be this night, you are not yet able to appoint
them a day of hearing; but I will forbear to tell them that,
notwithstanding your cold, you were able to speak with
the King of Spain’s instruments, though not with your own
subjects.’ Strange language, indeed, from a minister to his
sovereign — it would almost seem that their positions were
reversed! More candid criticism was yet to follow: ‘All
I can say,’ Buckingham writes in conclusion, ‘is that you
move slowly towards your own happiness and safety, and
those that depend of you. I pray God at last you may
attain to it, otherwise I shall take little comfort in wife or
child, though now I am suspected to look more towards
the rising sun than my maker.’ 1 Accompanying this
strange epistle was a memorandum of the line James was
to take with the Commons. He was to express his gratitude
for their advice, to promise to consult them on all questions
of war and peace, and allow them to choose a committee
to deal with any money they might vote for the recovery
of the Palatinate.

Not many months ago, James had valiantly told the
Venetian Ambassador that rather than allow Buckingham

1 Habdwicke, State Papers, I, p. 460.

147

BUCKINGHAM

to gain the upper hand ‘he would cut off his head’. 1
That his words were empty enough was now forcibly
demonstrated. To this high-handed action on the part of
his favourite he only replied by the most complete sub¬
mission. On March 5th he received the deputation from the
Houses at Theobalds. Four of Rudyerd’s proposals -
shortly to be known as ‘the four points’ — he accepted
unconditionally. These were the strengthening of the
fortifications, die fitting out of the fleet, the reinforcement
of Ireland, and the assistance of the Low Countries. He
would also allow Parliament to superintend the money for
the Palatinate, adding humbly that he hoped it would
allow him something for his personal needs. But upon one
point his remaining shred of spirit made him take a firm
stand. He did not like the idea of going to war against
Spain. Let the struggle be for the defence of the Protes¬
tants abroad, by all means, but let it not be an aggressive
war against Philip.

Yet even in this James expected to be overridden.
Speaking one day to the Spanish Ambassador he com¬
plained bitterly of the change which had come over his
son and his favourite. The Prince had been, before his
visit to Spain, as docile a son as could be desired, and well
affected to the Spanish nation. But now he was completely
carried away by rash and youthful counsels and followed
the humour of Buckingham ‘who had he knew not how
many devils in him since that journey’.* He greatly feared
that Philip must be warned that Parliament would force
him into a war with Spain, unless that monarch could
find some way of effecting a complete restitution of the
Palatinate.

In the meantime, Charles had proceeded on his own

* Valaresso to the Doge, Sept. 29th, 1623, Cal. S. P. Ven. (1623-25), p. xai.

* Cabala, p. 276.

148

BUCKINGHAM

fifteenths towards a continental alliance, and, in spite of
Charles’s recent declaration, repeated his request for a
personal grant to pay off his own debts. This answer
threw the Prince into a surly opposition to his father, and
Buckingham into a fit of tempestuous wrath.

Again were the Spanish Ambassadors to be seen going
openly about the streets, smiling triumphantly. James’s
indecision had been taken generally to mean that, for the
moment, the Spanish war was off. But Buckingham was
not going to give in without a struggle. He now appears
in the unusual role of the protector of Parliamentary
liberties against the King. Already, before James had
delivered his recent reply to the Parliamentary resolution,
the Duke had sensed in which directions his thoughts were
trending. He had, therefore, written a letter to the King,
pleading the cause of Parliament and threatening him with
the results of going his own way. Well might James wonder
what devil had entered into him! This amazing epistle
was couched in the following haughty terms: ‘I beseech
you send me your plain and resolute answer whether, if
your people so resolved to give you a royal assistance, with
a promise after, in case of necessity, to assist you with their
lives and fortunes; whether you will not accept it, and their
counsel to break the match, with the other treaties ... It
is feared, when your turns are served, you will not call them
together again to reform abuses, grievances and the making
of laws for the good government of the country ... Sir, I
beseech you, think seriously of this, and resolve once con¬
stantly to run one way. For so long as you waver between
the Spaniards and your subjects, to make advantage of
both you are sure to do it with neither.’ 1

And so, after James had disregarded this advice, and
delivered his indeterminate answer to the Houses, Bucking-

1 Habdwickb, State Papers, I, p. 466.

150

AFTERMATH

ham impetuously sought an interview with him, where he
pressed further the points already advanced in the letter
and introduced to the astonished King the new idea which
had been formulating itself in his brain for some time past.
In itself the idea was good and far-seeing. Buckingham
perceived that France, not Spain, was the growing power
to be reckoned with and he now proposed to strengthen
England’s position abroad by an alliance with France.
But the means he had selected of effecting this alliance were
more than astonishing, in view of his recent experiences.
He suggested nothing less than a marriage between the
Roman Catholic French Princess, Henrietta Maria, and
Prince Charles. At first James was stricken with horror at
the mere idea, coming at such a moment. It would be no
better than the Spanish affair, he argued, for France would
follow Spain in demanding impossible concessions for the
Roman Catholics over here. But Buckingham had come
well preened with arguments wherewith to talk his master
round. He pointed out that in this case the stakes would
not be so great. There was no Palatinate question, France
had no personal hostage in the Prince, whilst any demands
for the freedom of the Roman Catholics could be met by
counter-claims for the liberty of the French King’s Hugue¬
not subjects. James allowed himself to be persuaded and
gave his consent that the matter might be broached to
Parliament.

Next day, therefore, Charles and Buckingham presented
themselves before the Houses to explain away the King’s
unsatisfactory answer and to assure them that any money
they might vote would all be applied to the war against
Spain. Then Buckingham proceeded to relate to them his
conversation with the King anent the proposed French
marriage. It soon became evident from the downcast faces
around them that this was indeed unpopular, and it was

15*

BUCKINGHAM

no doubt to mollify this discontent and turn their thoughts
into other channels that the Prince whispered softly, ‘His
Majesty has a long sword. If it is once drawn, it will not
easily go in again.’ 1 The talk of the proposed match was
tacitly shelved and the Commons devoted themselves to
considerations of the war against Spain. On March 20th
they decided to vote the King £300,000 for the conduct of
the war, specifying that it was ‘for the securing of Ireland,
the assistance of your neighbours, the States of the United
Provinces, and others of your Majesty’s friends and allies,
and the setting forth of your Royal Navy’. Beyond the am¬
biguous phrase ‘others of your Majesty’s friends and allies’
no mention was made of James’s scheme for armed action
in Germany, and, indeed, the sum voted was hardly large
enough for such a design. Yet James, perhaps in the antici¬
pation of more to come during the autumn session,
graciously accepted the grant, promising not to touch a
penny of it without the consent of their treasurers. But the
Commons felt a chill of apprehension when the King pro¬
ceeded to inform them ‘whether I shall send twenty
thousand men or ten thousand men, whether by sea or land,
east or west, by diversion or otherwise . . . you must leave
that to the King’. This, indeed, was the very last thing they
were prepared to do.

But to the populace, at any rate, the King’s answer was
all-sufficient. At last the hated yoke of the Spaniard was
thrown off! In their excitement some of the crowd threw
stones and lighted firebrands at the windows of the Spanish
Embassy in London. After dark, bonfires blazed in every
street, and people danced and shouted their joy that the
domination of Gondomar would never be repeated.

Meanwhile, the new Spanish Ambassador to England,
Lafuente, had been held up in France, near Amiens, by

1 Cci. S. P. Dom. (James I), 1623-25, p. 189.

158 .

AFTERMATH

certain masked gentlemen who robbed him of all his secret
dispatches. They were no common thieves, for his money
and personal possessions were untouched. It was generally
suspected that the robbers were Frenchmen, that their
deed had been instigated by the Marquess of Hamilton and
that the whole affair had the connivance of Buckingham.
When Lafuente arrived in London without his dispatches
he was curtly informed that the negotiations were at an
end, and as he left the room after the interview he met the
Dutch Commissioners, with whom James was now treating
for the assistance to be given to the Low Countries. To add
to the indignation of the Spaniards, Parliament now pro¬
ceeded to tighten up the administration of the penal laws.

Even the Pope had added his censure upon Spain for
bungling the whole affair —‘There is much muttering
about the coming of Padre Maestro from Rome’, writes a
contemporary, ‘where the Pope blames the King of Spain
for managing no better when the Prince was in Spain.’ 1
The Prince so far forgot his native courtesy in his dislike for
all things Spanish, that when he received a present of three
cartloads of luscious fruits from the Countess of Olivares, he
scarcely glanced at them and left them to his servants.

The Spanish match was dead and cold, and when, on
April 14th, that renegade and soldier of fortune, Count
Mansfeld, arrived in London to talk of magnificent schemes
for the subjugation of the Imperial forces, he was eagerly
welcomed by the Prince and slept that night in 'the very
room which had been so expensively furnished for the
Infanta in St. James’s Palace. His visit to England was
greeted by a tremendous demonstration on the part of the
populace and in their warlike fervour men pressed forward
to try and touch his cloak. In his interview with James
Mansfeld spoke of the forthcoming war for the recovery of
1 Cal. S. P. Bom. (James I), 1623 - 25 . P- *93-

153

BUCKINGHAM

the Palatinate as a mere bagatelle. All he asked was a force
of 10,000 infantry, 3,000 horse, six guns and £20,000 a
month. He could get the rest from France, Venice and
Savoy, who would willingly come to his assistance once he
had made a start.

Whilst James, Charles and Mansfeld were talking, Buck¬
ingham had thought fit to take a preliminary measure of
action, and what he discovered in the naval equipment of
the country administered a sharp check to his optimism.
On April 1st, therefore, he summoned a committee of both
Houses to meet him in the Painted Chamber and outlined
the position to them. The Spanish treaties, he could assure
them, were quite definitely broken off. He himself had
inspected the fleet and consulted the Navy Commissioners
as to how they might furnish the necessary supplies, for the
Navy was in dire straits, and time was pressing. He had
taken up £5000 worth of supplies upon his own private
security and would gladly spend his entire fortune, but this
would not suffice. He therefore suggested that they should
approach certain wealthy financiers and ask for an im¬
mediate loan upon security of the forthcoming Parliamen¬
tary grant. The money thus lent would be given over to
Parliamentary Commissioners to handle.

These warlike preparations were viewed with alarm by
the Spanish Ambassadors and in their wild despair they
decided to strike at the one whom they conceived to be the
author df all their troubles — the Duke of Buckingham.
They fondly imagined that if once they could overthrow
the magnificent edifice of Buckingham’s favour with the
King — which, rumour had it, was already tottering — the
Spanish allia n ce could be restored to its former footing,
and war talk forgotten. The chief difficulty was to secure
a private audience with James, for Buckingham was always
present at all interviews. Moreover, guards were placed at

r 54

AFTERMATH

the Palace with instructions not to admit the Spaniards
to the King’s presence. None the less, on March 29th,
Inijosa and Goloma had adventurously managed to evade
these guards and the spies who constantly watched them,
and arrived at Whitehall. Here they were met by the King,
Prince and Duke, and whilst Coloma held the two latter in
earnest conversation, Inijosa managed to slip a paper into
the King’s hand and with a wink signed to James to put it
into his pocket. It contained a request that the King
should see Don Francisco de Carondelet in private, and to
this he acceded. An audience was fixed for eleven o’clock
on the night of April 1st, when Carondelet proceeded to
enumerate his charges against the Duke of Buckingham,
inevitably involving the Prince, much to the unfortunate
King’s misery.

His Majesty’s position, commenced Carondelet, was one
of virtual imprisonment, with the Duke as his gaoler. No
more surely had King John of France been a prisoner in
England or King Francis in Madrid, than James now was
in his own realm. Shut up in his country palaces, he had to
view his son and favourite guiding the destinies of Britain.
The Duke had made his position doubly secure by in¬
sinuating his way into the popular affections and assuming
the leadership of Parliament. He had openly bragged of
the King’s submission to his will and had revealed in the
Houses certain very secret proceedings taken upon His
Majesty’s private oath. It was common gossip in foreign
countries, continued the Spaniard, that Great Britain was
no longer governed by a monarchy, but by a Triumvirate,
of which Buckingham was the chief, the Prince the second
and the Kin g the last of all. The eyes of men were turned
towards the rising sun. He ended with an exhortation to
the Kin g , as the oldest and wisest monarch in Europe, to
free himself from this captivity by cutting off ‘so dangerous

i55

BUCKINGHAM

and ungrateful an affector of greatness and popularity as
the Duke’. 1 But although this discourse undoubtedly did
much to increase James’s unhappy state of mind, he could
not bring himself to believe such things of his beloved
Steenie, who continued unabated in his ascendancy.

April 18th saw the issue of an order by the Lord Admiral
to fit out twelve ships of war, whilst on April 21st a Council
of War was appointed. Clearly, decided the Spaniards, the
statements made by Carondelet had been too mild, and it
was with the abandonment of despair that on April 22nd
Lafuente presented himself before the King at Theobalds,
demanding a private audience, and in his excitement
grossly overstating his case against the Duke. He even
accused him of aiming at the throne of England for his
descendants by preventing any marriage on the part of
Charles, and by effecting an alliance between the eldest son of
the Electress Palatine and his daughter Mary. He then pro¬
ceeded to accuse the Duke of the most infamous behaviour
in Spain, painting his actual misconduct in the most glaring
colours and adding many original embellishments.

On May 3rd Padre Maestro presented a similar declara¬
tion to the King, commenting that the present situation in
England would only be fitting if the Kin g were young and
inexperienced, and the favourite wise and dispassionate —
instead of which the position was reversed! The Sp anish
intrigue reached its climax when Inijosa, in a final desperate
effort, exploded the bomb that he had unearthed a secret
plot, hatched by Buckingham, to transfer the crown to the
Prince, and to entertain James at his country house at
Theobalds, with hunting and the like pleasant pastimes,
until the present matters were ripe. To give countenance
to his story, Inijosa boldly asserted that several members
of the Privy Council could support" these facts.

1 Cabala, p. 375.

156

AFTERMATH

The King was stricken to the heart at the tale of such
perfidy in the two beings he loved most in all the world.
Setting out immediately for Windsor, he called at St.
James’s Palace on the way, where Charles and Buckingham
came forward to meet him. The tears welled up in the old
King’s eyes as he pathetically asked his favourite: ‘Ah,
Steenie, Steenie, wilt thou kill me?’ 1 and repeated in
broken phrases most of Inijosa’s story. At first Buckingham
was stricken dumb with astonishment, but presently he
recovered and proceeded to calm the agitated monarch as
best he could. He begged him to consider the great fil ial
affection of the Prince, and the loyalty of his people, which
alone would make such a scheme impossible, apart from
his own great devotion to his master. James, somewhat
pacified, departed for Windsor accompanied by his son,
but Buckingham, deeply upset, chose to remain behind. It
was not in his nature to lie down under such accusations,
and after he had recovered from his first shock, he declared
that the charges against him must be substantiated. He
forbore the King’s company for the moment, declaring that
with such a charge hanging over his head, the Tower was
a more suitable place of residence for him than the Palace
at Windsor! Inijosa, thus brought to the point, preferred
his accusations in writing, admitting that they were not
such as could be legally proved and declaring that men
were too afraid of Buckingham to tell the truth against
him. The Spaniard had sealed his own doom, for when,
on May 2nd, the Privy Councillors were questioned they
declared, one and all, that no treachery had ever passed
Buckingham’s lips in their hearing.

The Duke was cleared of suspicion, and, indeed, there is
little in his open and impetuous nature to suggest his com¬
plicity in such an underhand scheme. Furthermore, since

1 Wilson, Life and Reign of James I, p. 783.

157

BUCKINGHAM

he already wielded complete authority and could bend the
King readily to his will, there was no point in it. At all
events, the whole affair ended in a complete reconciliation
between the King and his favourite, whilst Inijosa was
forced to retract all he had said. In another month he and
Coloma left England, being denied a farewell audience of
the King , with no presents nor convoy, attended to Dover
only by Sir Lewis Lewkenor, not in his official capacity,
but as a private gentleman to protect them from any insults
they might receive on the way.

Buckingham had never been nearer to disaster and in
his endeavour to sift the affair to the very bottom he com¬
menced an inquiry into the conduct of the Lord Treasurer,
Lionel Granfield, Earl of Middlesex, who was suspected of
having had a hand in the recent accusations. Granfield,
city bred, rising through success in business, had insinuated
himself into Buckingham’s favour and married one of his
female relatives. In a short time he was made Privy
Councillor, Master of the Wardrobe, Master of the Wards,
Lord High Treasurer and Earl of Middlesex. He now began
to criticize Buckingham, demonstrating an independence
of opinion and a desire to stand without his patron. Buck¬
ingham had long been annoyed at his attitude and now,
suspecting him of a hand in the recent plot, resolved to
punish him. Since Parliament was at the moment his
instrument, he decided, ironically enough, to revive the
ancient weapon of Impeachment. 1 The Commons showed
alacrity in their desire to obey his behests, whilst Middlesex
had many enemies amongst the Peers, who had long
resented the continued power of one of such low origin.

1 There had been no impeachment since Suffolk’s trial in 1450. The procedure
was almost forgotten when, in 1621, Parliament launched its attack upon Michell,
Mompesson, and Bacon. There is an opinion that these trials were revivals of the
old form of impeachment, but actually the Commons took little part in the pro-
their statements are vague and confused. In the charge against
Middlesex the idea of indictment had become much more clear, and the notion that
the Commons could daim inquisitorial powers was strengthened.

158

AFTERMATH

James alone perceived the innate folly of this course, and
remonstrated with his inexperienced son and headstrong
favourite, assuring them that they were dealing a mortal
blow to the power of the crown and the right of a King to
protect his ministers. But his arguments left the Duke
quite unmoved, and finally James was driven by his rage
to exclaim: ‘By God, Steenie, you axe a fool and will shortly
repent this folly, and will find that, in this fit of popularity,
you are making a rod with which you will be scourged
yourself.’ Then, turning to the Prince, he said angrily: ‘You
will live to have your belly full of Parliamentary Impeach¬
ments; and when I shall be dead, you will have too much
cause to remember how much you have contributed to the
weakening of the Crown by the two precedents you are
now so fond of.’ 1 He referred to the engaging of Parliament
in the prosecution of the war, in addition to the matter of
the impeachment. Time was to show dramatically how
prophetic were the King’s words. Yet for the moment his
remonstrances were of no avail, the impeachment pro¬
ceeded, and Middlesex was sentenced to a long and strict
imprisonment and dishonoured for the rest of his life.

Buckingham had rid himself of one opponent but a for
more powerful enemy was on his way from Spain. In reply
to James’s letter commanding his return to England,
Bristol confidently declared: ‘My departure from this court
shall be with all speed, to cast myself at your Majesty’s feet,
where I am in no way diffident to appear an honest and
faithful servant.’ To Buckingham he had written from
Madrid, on December 6th, 1623, professing his readiness
to co-operate with him, and his desire to bury all past
misunderstandings. ‘The present estate of the King’s
fortunes,’ he declared, ‘requireth the concurrency of all his
servants and the co-operation of all his ministers, which

1 Clarendon, History of the Rebellion, I, p. 44 *

159

BUCKINGHAM

maketh me desirous to make unto your Grace this tender
of my service: that if there have happened any errors or
misunderstandings, your Grace will for that regard pass
them over: and for anything that may personally concern
my particular cause, I shall labour to give you the satis¬
faction that shall deserve your friendship.’ But he was
prepared for all emergencies and went on to state loftily:

‘I shall not be found unarmed with patience against any¬
thing that can happen to me.’ 1

The tone of this letter is very different from the nausea¬
ting servility with which so many of Buckingham’s creatures
wrote to him to ask his favour. It showed a readiness to
serve, together with a sturdy independence which demon¬
strated that the Earl was not prepared to give himself over
entirely to Buckingham’s views. The Duke was cold to
Bristol’s overtures, and, after a conference with the Prince,
decided that he must not be allowed a trial, since his
knowledge of the transactions which had taken place in
Spain was far too intimate to be made public. After
Bristol’s return, Charles and Buckingham — thoroughly
afraid of him, as it seems — used all their efforts to have him
confined to his house without being given a hearing upon
the charges against him. This was no way to deal with
such a man, and Bristol was hot in his resentment, again and'
again petitioning for a chance to answer on his own behalf.
Finally, on July ioth, a series of interrogations was sent to
him, which he was able to answer fully, showing that he
had always followed his master’s orders. At this point,
James was ready to grant Bristol a hearing, but his son and
his favourite used their combined influence to frustrate such
a meeting. For the rest of the reign the unfortunate earl
remained in obscurity in his house at Sherborne. Bucking¬
ham most probably believed that he was doing his country

1 Cabala, p. 96.

160

AFTERMATH

a good turn in thus disposing of one who might have in¬
clined the King’s ear once again to the hated Spaniard,
but he had made for himself a powerful enemy. Bristol
was to show later, at a time of crisis, that he could not so
easily be silenced.

The first week of May saw Buckingham in the throes of
a dangerous illness, no doubt occasioned by the shock he
must have suffered as a result of Inijosa’s malicious accusa¬
tions. Rumours were not wanting that the illness proceeded
from more definite Spanish malpractice, and it was
affirmed that some poison had been given him in Spain
which was now beginning to do its work. For a fortnight
Buckingham lay at his home with a high fever and a sharp
attack of jaundice, and during his illness all important
state business was held up. By May 21st the favourite barl
twice been seen taking the air, and on the 24th it was
reported that he was to accompany the King to Nonesuch,
there to recuperate fully. The immediate effect of his
breakdown had been to strengthen the bond between the
King and himself, for James had been a constant visitor at
his bedside. So the last few months of the old Kin g ’s life
were passed free from the miserable clouds of estrangement
which had seemed at the beginning of the year to be likely
to blot out permanently the great friendship between him
and Steenie. By the end of June, Buckingham was again
able to take his place at Court, though considerably
weakened physically by his recent attack, and those who
had hoped for his rapid decline were once again thwarted.

L

161

CHAPTER VIII

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

The remarkable vicissitudes of a mind like Buckingham’s
become bewildering to follow unless we grasp the initial fact
that in all his policy, both at home and abroad, this versatile
young minister was for ever pursuing the shadows which
haunted his fertile imagination, thereby losing hold of the
substance of reality. At this period of his career we find
him at the pinnacle of success, the darling of the multitude,
the bosom friend of both King and Prince, the popular
leader of Parliament, so that it seems difficult to believe
that by 1625 the first Parliament of Charles could be de¬
nouncing him whole-heartedly, seeing in his continued rule
an ever increasing menace to the realm. A wise statesman
would have made his popularity the means of steering the
nation into channels of prosperity, a crafty politician might
perhaps have turned it to his own ends, abandoning
immediately any measure whereby it was endangered. Why
then, did Buckingham deliberately throw away such a
priceless possession? The reason is partly to be sought in
the plan upon which his heart was now set, to the exclusion
of all else — the marriage of Charles with Henrietta Maria
of France. Although there had been no open opposition to
the marriage in the last session of Parliament, the general
murmurings were clearly against the idea. An alliance
with France had no place in the Commons’ scheme of
things. Yet, wisely conducted, a treaty between the two
powers might have resulted to the benefit of Great Britain
on the Continent, for Richelieu — so soon to be guiding
the destinies of France — though a Cardinal of the Church
of Rome, was never averse to lending a little secret aid to a

162

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

Protestant power if he thought thereby to strengthen his
own position. And it would, no doubt, be greatly to
France’s advantage to assist Great Britain — very secretly
of necessity — in crushing the power of Spain.

Unfortunately, Buckingham’s was not the personality to
conduct such a tricky piece of diplomacy, and he did not
seem even to realize that the inherent religious differences
between the two countries demanded, at the best, a very
covert alliance. Thinking that the French King would see
no harm in the imposition of countless bars upon the free
exercise of his sister’s religion once she were Queen of
England, he proceeded to negotiate the alliance once
again through the medium of an unpopular marriage. He
showed a complete lack of statesmanship in even contem¬
plating such a step in face of the growing strength of
Puritanism in the English middle classes.

Perhaps the greatest charge which can be laid against
Buckingham is that, always goaded on by his vanity to
achieve some stupendous coup which would acclaim his
immortal fame, he rushed headlong into daring schemes
fraught with difficulties which, if he perceived, he chose to
disregard. For the remaining years of his life he now held
the destinies of England in his two hands, and again and
again we see him carrying the nation on the tide of his
enthusiasm into some dangerous water, where shipwreck
can be only the possible result. For much of this folly
posterity has condemned him violently, not recognizing
that he was, in reality, no vicious, tyrannic monster, seeking
to establish his own omnipotence at the expense of his
country, but rather a rash, impetuous being, unschooled
in diplomacy, and captivated by schemes which possessed,
for himself at any rate, brilliant prospects of success, where¬
by the fast fading fortunes of Great Britain on the Con¬
tinent might be re-established.

163

BUCKINGHAM

After the prorogation of Parliament there was little to
stand in the way of this new scheme of Buckingham’s and
he proceeded to pursue it with characteristic vigour, in
spite of the fact that he had only very lukewarm support
from James and Charles, who had not yet forgotten the
outcome of the recent Spanish negotiations. In France the
alliance was viewed as extremely desirable and had secured
a powerful advocate in the Queen Mother. The French
Government was faced with three paramount dangers —
the growing strength of its Huguenot subjects and the
rising spectre of the Imperial power, together with the no
less formidable expansion of Spanish territory in Europe.
It seemed that before them lay a choice of evils. Either a
peace must be concluded with the Huguenots and attention
turned towards the war with Spain and the Empire, or
hostilities with the foreigner terminated for the commence¬
ment of a religious campaign at home. Eventually Louis
allowed his patriotism to overcome his religious convictions
— a policy which his minister Richelieu was soon to pursue
with such striking success. An alliance with England must
be effected, that together these two powers might crush the
Spaniard and check the Imperial revival.

There was another side issue, apparently overlooked by
Buckingham, yet fraught with endless possibilities of
creating trouble. The Duke had told James in their recent
discussion on the marriage that this time there would be
no Palatinate question, but had omitted to mention the
problem of the Valtelline. This was a narrow pass, stretch¬
ing from Lake Como to the Tyrolese mountains, and formed
the only way of communication between Italy and Ger¬
many for Spain without encroaching on neutral states. It
was now occupied by Spanish forces on a very questionable
title. Whilst Englishmen clamoured in Parliament for the
restitution of the Palatinate, Frenchmen were no less in-

164

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

sistent in their demands for the restoration of the Valtelline,
which they considered their rightful possession. Here lay
one of the dangers of an alliance with France, for it was
certain that the English Parliament would never agree to
the employment of British troops for such an object as the
recovery of the Valtelline. Buckingham must also have
been well aware, from his recent experiences, that there
would be no securing any relaxation in the administration
of the recusancy laws. Yet he continued to negotiate with
France and to force an unwilling James and Charles in the
same direction, sanguine to the end that they would secure
all their wishes without any quid pro quo. The French were
equally sanguine in their hopes to evade all obligations,
and so the negotiations for the treaty were commenced,
each trying to hoodwink the other. Nothing but disaster
was to be expected from dealing in such half shades of
diplomacy.

Meanwhile Lord Kensington, who had ‘an amorous
tongue and a wise head’ and could ‘court it smoothly as
any man with the ladies’, 1 had arrived in Paris, charged by
Buckingham to take a preliminary sounding of the general
situation and by Charles to convey affectionate greetings
to the Princess. It was soon apparent to Kensington that
before the French were willing to negotiate, the Spanish
treaties must be definitely broken off. This opinion was
conveyed to Buckingham in a letter which was more re¬
markable for its wealth of romantic detail. His report of
the Princess was couched in glowing terms. ‘My Lord,’ he
wrote, ‘she is a lovely, sweet young creature. Her growth is
not great yet, but her shape is perfect.’* Informers were not
wanting, on the scent of romance, who could tell him that
she had seldom displayed such a cheerful countenance as
she did now, and that he might guess the cause of it. The

1 Hacket, Scrirda Reserata , Part i, p. 309. 2 Cabala, p. 390.

165

BUCKINGHAM

Queen had also expressed her affection for the Prince,
declaring that she was sorry that on his informal visit to
their masque in 1623 he had viewed her and her sister
from such a disadvantageous point in a dark room, sinc e
the Princess ‘had more loveliness to be considered nearby’.
When Kensington produced the Prince’s portrait there was
a general skirmish on the part of the ladies to see it, in
which the Princess, for maidenly modesty, did not join. But
Kensington was able to write to Charles and tell him that
she had sought a secret interview with him later, when she
had desired to borrow the miniature of the Prince, which
he wore in a locket about his neck, so that she might gaze
upon it in the privacy of her boudoir. 1

Kensington stressed the romantic side of the proposed
union at the expense of more serious considerations. The
situation was in reality as delicate and dangerous as the
most experienced in political intrigue could have desired,
for France clearly was not ready to engage in war on a
grand scale to help England in the Palatinate question. On
the other hand, she intended to bide her time, promising
much, fulfilling nothing, whilst English men and money
were flung as pawns upon the plains of Germany to create
a diversion for the French attack on the Valtelline. An
alliance of any description between nations of such diver¬
gent interests was bound to lead to trouble. A matrimonial
union seemed a fair way of heading to disaster.

But, blind to the difficulties of the situation, Buckingham
urged the alliance, and on May 17th the Earl of Carlisle
was dispatched to Paris to conclude the negotiations. On a
lesser scale, the story of the disputes in Spain was now to be
repeated, for immediately there arose the question of
toleration for the Roman Catholics. Carlisle’s instructions
had stated clearly that there could be no question of a

1 Cabala, p. 287.

166

HENRIETTA MARIA

From the portrait by Gerard Honthurst in the National
Portrait Gallery

By courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

general relaxation of the penal laws — at the most, England
could only offer toleration for the Queen and her house¬
hold. But this did not satisfy Lotus, who proceeded to
demand nothing short of a written guarantee from James
that he would exercise a universal clemency to the Roman
Catholics in England. Verbal agreements would not be
accepted.

Charles himself seems to have realized that in view of the
recent promises to Parliament such an undert aking could
only lead to fierce domestic strife and alienate the nation
beyond all measure. And in his opinion it was better to go
to war without the aid of France than without the aid of
Parliament. At court this attitude must have been obvious
to all, for men began to speak of an alliance with one of the
Princesses of Mecklenburg or Saxony, whilst all prospects of
a French marriage ceased to be discussed. In view of this
development La Vieuville, the French minister, recalled
Tillieres, his half-hearted ambassador in England, and
dispatched the Marquis D’Effiat—whose diplomatic ability
was remarkable — to try his powers upon the English King.

On July 17th, 1624, James began one of his usual pro¬
gresses and D’Effiat took care to accompany the court on
every possible occasion. Feasts and banquets were given
in his honour by the King and various of the court officials,
including one at Newhall by Buckingham, which saw the
beginning of a close alliance between the new French
Ambassador and the favourite.

There can be no doubt that from this moment Bucking¬
ham alone must shoulder the responsibility for urging on
the French marriage. He seems to have become obsessed
by the notion that French assistance was quite indispensable
to the furtherance of his plans and that whatever Effiat
demanded — however unpalatable or even impossible —
must be accepted. So closely did he work with the French

167

BUCKINGHAM

Ambassador that the court could not but comment upon
his actions. His recent popularity rapidly ebbed away as
men watched him supporting the foreigner in all his
extravagant demands.

Together Effiat and Buckingham began to work upon
James and Charles. Apparently Vieuville, upon his own
authority, had suggested to Effiat that could he not secure
an official agreement from James regarding the penal laws
a letter would be just as acceptable and equally binding.
Of course the English King must be assured that he only
required this letter to show to the Pope with a view to
hastening the granting of the dispensation. Unfortunately
for Vieuville, his suggestion was regarded by Louis as a
piece of unwarranted presumption, and he was dismissed
from office.

Richelieu succeeded Vieuville in power, and he realized'
the futility of trying to hoodwink the Pope. So he pro¬
ceeded to demand that the concessions must be drawn up
in the form of an article under the King’s hand and seal.
This decision was conveyed to James and Charles whilst
Buckingham was enjoying a visit to Wellingborough, whose
medicinal waters he was hoping would improve his health,
for since his recent illness he had had one or two minor
relapses. In the absence of the favourite the King and
Prince proceeded to act upon their own initiative and on
August 13th a letter was sent to Carlisle and Kensington
clearly stating that, in view of the recent demands, the
negotiations must be broken off.

Effiat 5 s consternation was complete. He hastened to
Wellingborough to inform Buckingham of the recent de¬
velopments and together they set out to meet the court
which was now at Derby. The story goes that on their way
they met Cook, the King’s messenger, bearing his momen¬
tous dispatches to France. Buckingham, caring little for

168

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

the sanctity of the royal seal, opened the packet and read
the letters, hurried back to James and demanded a drastic
revision. Such an action leaves little doubt as to who was
the real ruler of the country. Poor James was forced to
alter most of the letter, but on the point of the article his
remaining shred of spirit made him take a firm stand. He
did go so far as to allow Buckingham to inform Richelieu
that he would re-word his original letter and guarantee
more definitely the privileges of the Roman Catholics in
England. But such evasions of the issue cut no ice with
Richelieu, who would accept nothing less than a full and
formal agreement.

At this point James and Charles would have recalled the
ambassadors and broken off the negotiations, but Bucking¬
ham, by now frantic in his desire to secure the French
alliance, used his powerful influence to break down their
opposition, whilst Effiat was constantly at his side suggest¬
ing one idea after another. The outcome of all this diplo¬
macy was that James consented to agree to the French
demands, though he still insisted that the agreement must
be in the form of a letter. As a formality, the consent of the
Council was to be obtained, so that Buckingham might be
protected from the certain fury of Paxliament in the next
session.

It was now the middle of September and at the proroga¬
tion James had given his word to summon Parliament on
November 2nd. Yet how was he to face the nation’s repre¬
sentatives with the recusancy laws already relaxed on the
authority of his Privy Council? The meeting was accord¬
ingly delayed until February 26th, on the pretext that the
increase of the plague in London had made it an unsuitable
occasion for an assembly, but a more truthful reason was
given by Buckingham himself in a letter to Nithsdaie,
written in October, expressing the hope that ‘the respect

169

BUCKINGHAM

of the Princess of France, and the reverence which will be
given to her person when she shall be here for those graces
and virtues that shine in her, as likewise for the love and
duty borne to the Prince, being all joined in her, will not
only stay the exorbitant or ungentle motions that might
otherwise be made in the House of Parliament, but will
facilitate in His Majesty’s proceedings those passages of
favour, grace and goodness which His Majesty hath pro¬
mised for the ease of the Roman Catholics’. 1 It was indeed
a forlorn hope that such hard-headed Puritan squires as
Phelips, Pym or Eliot would allow themselves to be won
over by a bright-eyed girl of sixteen, no matter how great
her personal charm.

On November ioth the marriage treaty was signed by
the ambassadors, and now only James’s ratification and the
Papal dispensation were needed for its completion. On her
part, France had cheerfully evaded the issue. Beyond a
promise to pay Mansfeld for six months, James had to be
content with the fair words of the French King. Carlisle
wrote from the French Court: ‘that they could not conde¬
scend to anything in writing: but if the King’s faith and
promise would serve the turn, that should be renewed to
us here and to His Majesty in England in as full a manner
as could be desired’. 8 It was a most unsatisfactory con¬
clusion to the negotiations, and time was to show how little
reliance could be placed upon the words of the French
King.

The marriage treaty secured, Buckingham was now to
try his skill as the director of a great continental war. His
attack was to be by both land and sea. On the Continent
English forces, under Mansfeld, were to march to the relief
of die Palatinate. On the high seas, England and France

1 Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, p. 179.

* Hardwicke, State Papers , 1, p. 539.

170

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

were to unite in an attack upon a Spanish seaport, and the
seizure of the Spanish treasure fleet on its way from South
America. Such was the grand design of the English War
Minister, but how he thought he was going to carry it out
without a Parliament to grant the necessary supplies it is
difficult to conceive. To the doubtful prospect of French
assistance he had sacrificed the invaluable co-operation of
the English Parliament. The result of his folly became
miserably evident in the events which took place early in
1625.

In November Buckingham had, by some unknown means
of coercion, obtained from the Council of War £15,000 for
the levying of troops for Mansfeld and £40,000 to pay their
expenses for two months. The soldiers were hastily raised
by the press-gang, who chose the material nearest at hand,
regardless of its suitability. The men had no heart in the
struggle and were hardly likely to bring honour and glory
upon the name of Britain. ‘It is lamentable’, writes a con¬
temporary, ‘to see the heavy countenances of our pressed
men, and to hear the sad farewells they take of their friends,
showing nothing but deadly unwillingness to the service;
and they move pity almost in all men in regard of
the incommodity of the season, the uncertainty of the
employment, and the ill terms upon which they are like
to serve.’ Under such a renegade as Mansfeld there
was little but misery likely to come to the poor soldiers
and it was with sad hearts and doubting countenances
that their friends watched them marching away to
Dover.

At that seaport there were scenes of mutinous disorder.
As many as could managed to find freedom in desertion,
whilst those who were left threatened to set fire to the town
and hang the Mayor. The officers, more than half sorry
for the miserable wretches, meted out punishment in a

171

BUCKINGHAM

desultory fashion, unwilling to add further to their
sufferings.

Whilst the soldiers waited at Dover, it was being de¬
monstrated that the French alliance, for which Buckingham
had traded his popularity, was utterly empty. The only
assistance which Louis deigned to offer was two thousand
horse, whilst the port of Calais was to be closed to Mans-
feld. He must march on the Palatinate through Holland —
France refused to be involved. To this miserable pass had
sunk the grand plan of a concerted action by the two
nations for the recovery of the Palatinate. By January 31st
the already depleted English army left Dover, found the
port of Calais closed, the French cavalry not ready, and
were forced to proceed to the Dutch port of Flushing. So
this half-starved gang of raw recruits, under a notorious
adventurer, was launched by Buckingham, in the name of
Great Britain, against the veteran armies of Tilly. Seldom
had our national prestige sunk to a lower ebb. Other
nations were moved to pity by the sufferings of this miser¬
able army, which was defeated almost before it set out.
The soldiers had to face the most rigorous part of the winter,
and, exhausted by lack of food, they quickly fell victims to
the icy blasts and driving snow they encountered. Supplies
sent in pity by the Dutch Government saved them for a
while, but their plight was soon even worse, for only an
efficient administration at home could have provided
adequate food and clothing for this multitude. The small
' supplies granted by the War Council in November were
exhausted, whilst Buckingham was otherwise employed in
fin di n g money to fit out the ships for his naval expedition.
Mansfeld cared little about his troops, who were now ‘poor
and naked’ and dying at the rate of fifty a day. ‘All day
long we go about for victuals and bury our dead,’ 1 writes

1 Gabdinbr, V, p. 289.

172

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

Lord Cromwell, one of the commanders. The brother of
the Prince of Orange, moved by their sufferings, sent the
unfortunate soldiers victuals and straw to cover their frozen
bodies. This was the disgraceful news sent to England by
Carleton, the English Ambassador in Holland. It was not
warfare, for the army was simply dwindling away, already
conquered by privation and the rigour of the elements. It
was certain by now that Mansfeld would never reach
Tilly’s forces, and that this meagre company could ever
stand up against the well fed, well clad Imperial forces was
an idea too incongruous to consider.

December saw Buckingham, apparently unshaken by the
miserable fate of this enterprise, preparing to assist France
in an attack she was planning upon Genoa, as a diversion
to secure the Valtelline. The French King was to hire
twenty ships from Holland and twenty from England, and
the combined fleet was to go out under his name. This was
a small affair compared with the magnificent idea which
daily grew stronger in Buckingham’s imagination; that of
seizing a fort on the Spanish coast — Cadiz for preference —
and then taking the treasure fleet already on its way from
the rich mines of South America. With Spain crippled,
their own coffers well replenished, they could soon conquer
the Catholic forces on the Continent, and between them
France and England could partition Europe to their own
ends. It was a grand idea, but Buckingham was soon to
find that his path was fraught with difficulties, and that
disaster after disaster was to occur which not even he would
be able to explain away to the irate nation he was so gaily
misleading.

Nothing perturbed as yet, the Duke was now preparing
his equipage for his forthcoming journey to France. On
December 4th general rejoicings had been ordered to take
place in the form of bells, bonfires, and the discharge of

173

BUCKINGHAM

guns for the conclusion of the French match. The bride
was expected to arrive at the end of January, and the Duke
of Buckingham was appointed to go to France as the
Prince’s proxy. No role could have suited him better, and
the equipment and retinue which he was preparing for the
journey could not have been more regal, had he been the
Prince himself. For the adornment of his handsome person
he had ‘twenty-seven rich suits, embroidered and laced
with silk and silver plushes, besides one rich white satin
uncut velvet suit, set all over both suit and cloak with
diamonds, the value whereof is thought to be fourscore
thousand pounds’. In this suit, with a feather studded with
diamonds adorning his hat, a diamonded hat band, sword,
girdle and spurs, the Duke planned to make his entry into
Paris, dazzling the French Court by the splendour of his
first appearance. For the wedding day itself he had pre¬
pared to wear a rich suit of purple satin — the colour of
kings — embroidered with orient pearl, with a Spanish
cloak and all other accoutrements in accordance. This out¬
fit was valued at £2000. ‘His other suits are all as rich as
invention can frame, or art can fashion,’ 1 writes a con¬
temporary. He was to be accompanied by fifteen noble¬
men and twenty knights, each to have his own retinue, the
whole train numbering about six or seven hundred persons.
There were to be three coaches, richly upholstered in
crimson velvet inside, and covered on the exterior by gold
lace. Each coach was to be drawn by eight horses, and to
have six coachmen richly attired. To complete the retinue
were one hundred and sixty musicians, all dressed in mag¬
nificent costumes. So might Cleopatra have prepared to
go and meet her Antony!

It seems a pity that, after all, France was denied the
sight of this lavish splendour, but Fate intervened in

1 Eujs, Original Letters, Series I, voL in, p. 189.

174

THE FRENCH MARRIAGE

Buckingham’s plans, and when he did actually go to
France it was not as the Prince’s proxy, and instead of the
train of six hundred he took only Montgomery, Morton
and Goring with him. In fact he left England so hastily
that he had to send back for some of his magnificent suits —
including the white velvet one — so that he might appear
in them at the court functions.

For on March 5th, 1625, King James was stricken by
what proved to be his fatal illness — a tertian ague. At
first his ailment was not regarded with any great alarm,
for his health had been poor for some months, and many
of the usual Christmas to Twelfth Night festivities had been
cancelled owing to the King’s increasing infirmity. With
the coming of spring, large quantities of luscious fruits
reached James from the Continent, and, despite the advice
of his friends and doctors, the King could not be restrained
from eating them with avidity. It is said that on the arrival
of a new basket he was unable to wait for the contents to
be placed on a dish, but would plunge his hands into the
hamper and greedily eat his fill. When he fell ill it was only
what had been generally apprehended. On March 12th a
contemporary writes ‘The King was overtaken on Sunday
with a tertian ague, which continues yet, but without any
manner of danger, if he would allow himself to be governed
by physical rules.’ 1

Yet James himself seems to have feared the worst, and
although on the 12th he was considered sufficiently con¬
valescent to move to Hampton Court, he suddenly be¬
thought himself that Buckingham, when he had been ill
the previous year, had greatly benefited by the remedies of
a certain Dr. John Remington, an honest country doctor
of Dunmow in Essex, who had cured many patients by his
particular line of treatment. This consisted of the applica-

1 Nichols, Progresses of James I, in, p. 1028.

r 75

BUCKINGHAM

tion of ‘planters’ to the stomach and wrists, together with
the administration of a posset drink. No sooner did the
Countess of Buckingham hear of the King’s desire to try
the remedy than she sent down to Dunmow for the drink
and plaisters, herself applying the latter to the King’s
stomach and wrists, whilst the posset drink was given to
him by Buckingham. Soon after this, the King had another
sharp fit of the ague, this time very much more severe, and
the royal physicians were called in. Furious at the inter¬
ference of the Duke and his mother, they refused to do any¬
thing until the plaisters had been taken off. This being
done, the fifth, sixth and seventh fits were easier. By
March 21st he was apparently much improved, and
arrangements were still proceeding for Buckingham’s
journey to France as Charles’s proxy. On that date, how¬
ever, the headstrong monarch desired the Countess’s
remedies to be applied again, and this time Buc kingham
protested, informing him that many people were saying
that he was trying to poison the King. ‘They are worse
than devils that say so,’ 1 replied James. He had his own
way, the plaisters were again applied, and the next fit was
an exceptionally violent one. Two days later it was de¬
clared that Buckingham would not leave his master until
he were perfectly recovered. But on the 24th there seemed
little hope, for James was sinking fast. Sending for his son
and his principal attendants, the King made a confession
of his faith, afterwards receiving the spiritual ministrations
of Archbishop Williams. After this his strength rapidly
ebbed away, and by noon on March 27th, only in his fifty-
seventh year, although for some time he had seemed much
older, King James I sank into his last sleep.

1 Buckingham’s Defence (1626), Lords ’ Journals , hi, p. 662. A certain Dr.
Eglisham, one of James's Scottish physicians, published a scurrilous pamphlet at
Frankfort in 1626, accusing Buckingham of poisoning the King, as well as the
Marquess of Ha mil ton and a few others. But his accusations are too wild and
malicious to deserve any serious attention.

176

CHAPTER IX

THE NEW KING

James had left a world of affairs which, of late, never
ceased to bewilder him, and over which he had for
some time exercised no control. The problems of the
future he left to his ill-fated son, who was immediately
proclaimed King Charles I, both at Theobalds and at
Whitehall. The new King, unlike his father, appealed to
the popular imagination. He possessed a handsome
personality, and in his shy reserve and regal dignity men
thought they could envisage countless hopes for the future.
Little was known generally of Charles’s character, for he
made few friends and did not inherit his father’s garrulity,
preferring silence to speech on most occasions. One thing
at least counted strongly in his favour, for all men knew
that he was on the popular side in desiring a war with
Spain, and the nation was ready to follow its warrior king
against the hereditary foe. As Charles was proclaimed at
Whitehall, therefore, there were loud cheers on all sides.
‘The joy of the people devoured their mourning’ says a
contemporary . 1

It was soon obvious that the Duke of Buckingham was
to enjoy the unwonted distinction of reigning supreme in
the affections of two of Britain’s monarchs. After James
had died, Charles and Buckingham remained at Theobalds
for a few hours, coming up to St. James’s that night to take
up their residence. For the rest of the week Charles
remained in the seclusion of his Palace, finding his greatest

1 Ellis, Original Letters, Series II, vol. m, p. 243.

M 177

BUCKINGHAM

consolation in the presence of the Duke, who was, we are
told, his constant companion both day and night. ‘He
lay on the first night of the reign in the King’s bedchamber,
and three nights after in the next lodgings.’ 1 Far from
suffering any diminution, Buckingham’s power was to be
stronger than ever, for Charles’s faith in his friend was even
greater than that of James. He regarded him as a wise
and diligent minister keenly devoted to his country’s
interests, and from now onwards showed a determined
resolution to adhere to his advice and protect him from
all factious opposition. ‘The Duke stands hugely high in
the substantial part of the King’s favour’, writes a con¬
temporary.* But it was well known that Charles had a
will of his own, and speculations were rife as to whether
the personal domination of Buckingham, begun in the last
reign, was to continue. Events were soon to show that the
Duke would still guide the destinies of the nation in the
path of his own desire.

By now Buckingham had obtained a quick conception
of the business of government, and had an easy grace of
speech and manner which helped him to secure his own
way the more readily. His own letters reveal quite clearly
that he took his task of government seriously enough.
Directed into the proper channels, his energy and enthu¬
siasm might have been invaluable to the nation. Perhaps,
under the wise and firm guidance of Elizabeth, Bucking¬
ham would have achieved something of value. Under
another Henry V he might have won everlasting glory by
his daring and brilliance on the battlefields of France, for
he never lacked personal courage. But under James and
Charles his vanity was flattered by such extreme adulation
that his personal glory and personal desires came to

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles I, I, p. 3.
* Cal . S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1625-26, p. 10.

178

THE NEW KING

occupy an altogether disproportionate place in his scheme
of things. This weakness led him into lines of conduct so
disastrous in their results that posterity has been inclined
to see too much the blacker side of his character, and
condemn him without a hearing. Yet many of his con¬
temporaries testify that he was a man of no mean ability,
and even his enemies cannot deny his tremendous personal
charm. In all the arts of a courtier he was exceptionally
well endowed, and his nature showed not the slightest
trace of meanness or petty avarice. Clarendon, who had no
reason to flatter Buckingham, has left us a very just estimate
of his character, observing: ‘This great ma n was a
person of a noble nature and generous disposition, and of
such other endowments as made him very capable of being
a great favourite to a great King. He understood the arts
of a court, and all the learning that is professed there,
exactly well... He was of a most flowing courtesy and
affability to all men who made any address to him; and
so desirous to oblige him that he did not enough consider
the value of the obligation or the merit of the person he
chose to oblige, from which most of his misfortune resulted.
He was of a courage not to be daunted, which was mani¬
fested in all his actions, and in his contests with particular
persons of the greatest reputation... His kindness and
affection to his friends was so vehement that they were as
so many marriages for better and worse, and so many
leagues offensive and defensive: as if he thought himself
obliged to make love to all his friends, and make war upon
all they were angry with, let the cause be what it would.
He was an enemy in the same excess, and prosecuted those
he looked upon as his enemies with the utmost rigour and
animosity. And when he was in the highest passion, so far
from stooping to any dissimulation, whereby his dis¬
pleasure might be covered and concealed till he had

179

BUCKINGHAM

attained his revenge, that he never endeavoured to do any
man an ill office before he told him first what he was to
expect from him and reproached him for the injuries he
had done.’ 1 Under the regime of such a personality it is
evident that there was to be no meanness, or deceit, but,
on the other hand, no liberal-minded inclination to listen
to counsel. All opposition was to be silenced instantly,
and those offering it would fade out of public life. The
Duke was never ready to listen to all sides of the question.
His long apprenticeship under James, who had taught his
favourite to expect his own way in most things, had turned
a high-spirited enthusiasm into a headstrong passion.
Foolishly had the King led the young George Villiers to
believe, from the outset, that his word was and must be
law, and that all attempts to gainsay him should be in¬
stantly quashed. England was to reap the harvest of
dragon’s teeth which James had then sown. We cannot
but mourn this ruin of what was, in so many respects, a
noble and generous personality.

The first in the new reign to feel the sting of Buckingham’s
displeasure was Sir Francis Cottington, who had, after his
return from Spain, ventured to advise James that the
Spaniards were in earnest over the matter of the Palatinate
— ‘That they did in truth desire it, and were fully resolved
to gratify His Majesty in the business, and only desired the
manner of it to gratify the Emperor and Duke of Bavaria
all they could; which would take up little time.’ For this
attitude Sir Francis was now to suffer. When, one morning,
in his capacity as Private Secretary, he was preparing to
attend the King in his Privy Chamber, one of the secre¬
taries of state came to him and told him that ‘it was the
King’s pleasure that he should no more presume to come
into these rooms’. At this moment Buckingham entered

1 Clarendon, History of the Rebellion, i, p. 55.

j8o

THE NEW KING

the room, and without more ado Sir Francis walked boldly
up to him and, remarking upon the recent evidences of his
displeasure which he had experienced, desired to know
‘whether it could not be in his power, by all dutiful
application, and all possible service, to be restored to the
good opinion his Grace had once vouchsafed to have of
him and to be admitted to serve him?’ The Duke listened
to him without any show of emotion and with a serene
countenance answered ‘that he would deal very clearly
with him: that it was utterly impossible to bring that to
pass which he had proposed, that he was not only firmly
resolved never to trust him or to have to do with him, but
that he was, and would be always, his declared enemy:
and that he would do always whatsoever lay in his power
to ruin and destroy him, and of this he might be assured’. 1
Sir Francis, who saw that argument was hopeless, merely
contented himself with remarking that he hoped the Duke
would not suffer him to be the loser by this new animosity,
since he had recently, by the Duke’s command, not only
laid out money in jewels and pictures, but had also,
hoping to gain favour, presented him with a suit of hang¬
ings worth £800. Curtly Buckingham informed him that
he had only to send in his account and every penny he had
spent thus would be repaid. It was an object lesson the
court was not likely to forget. The schemes of Charles
and his minister from now on met with little conciliar
opposition, and it was left to the bolder spirits on the
Commons’ Benches — should Parliament be sitting — to
voice, at their own peril, the nation’s growing discontent
with the events to follow.

On April 3rd, 1625, Charles walked quietly across St.
James’s Park to his new quarters at Whitehall, with a
complete absence of ceremony, to take up the reins of

1 Clabendon, History of the Rebellion , i, p. 33.

181

BUCKINGHAM

government. His attention was immediately turned to¬
wards the conduct of the war, money was sent to assist
Mansfeld and the King of Denmark in the land campaign,
whilst the Navy was rapidly being prepared, Buckingham
having loaned £30,000 to this object. The King made his
first public appearance since his father’s death at Black-
wall, where he went to visit the shipping. Meanwhile a
rendezvous at Plymouth had been arranged for twelve
ships of the Royal Navy, twenty armed merchantmen,
and thirty transport vessels. Ten thousand soldiers were
to be pressed for service. The expedition was to sail under
the personal command of Buckingham, and men wondered
eagerly what was to be its destination. The original idea
of the Lord Admiral was known to have been an attack
upon a Spanish fortress town and the seizure of the treasure
fleet, now on the way back from South America laden
with its rich cargo. But now Buckingham had reacted
violently to a chance remark passed at the Hague that both
England and Holland would be the richer if the piratical
headquarters in the Flanders ports were stormed and
cleared out. Such a scheme necessarily demanded the
concurrence, if not the assistance of France, and it was in
an effort to secure this co-operation that Buckingham
determined to make a personal visit to the French Court,
forgetting how little his personality had availed him in
Spain. He hoped that this time the magic of his presence
would induce the cautious and non-committal Richelieu
to cast his weight definitely on the side of England in the
forthcoming struggle. The advent of this rash and pas¬
sionate young diplomatist must have been a grievous trial to
the sagacious Cardinal, who liked to proceed warily in all
things, and above all shuddered at the idea of taking any of
Buckingham’s famous leaps in the dark.

After the King’s death the Duke had given up his

182

THE NEW KING

intended visit to France as proxy for the marriage, which
had already taken place in front of the great west door
of Notre-Dame. Buckingham had intended to sail across
the channel in command of the fleet which was to bring
Henrietta Maria to England, but now he was once again
fired with all the ardour of a new scheme, and burning
with enthusiasm to suggest his ideas in person to Richelieu
and the French King.

One evening towards the end of May Buckingham
arrived in Paris and took up his lodging at the house of
the Duke of Chevreuse. To the Venetian ambassador he
declared that he had simply come to hasten the departure
of the bride; to the casual observer it seemed that his sole
object was to dazzle a court well accustomed to splendour
with the brilliance of his personality. His famous white
satin suit, magnificently studded with diamonds, took the
French courtiers by storm, and to many of the ladies he
became something of a demi-god. The tall, handsome
Englishman set all feminine hearts aflutter, and from the
moment of his arrival one lady, at least, of very high rank
was more than willing to forget her husband and station
in his presence. For Buckingham had captured the girlish
imagination of no less a person than the Queen of France,
the volatile and pleasure-loving Anne. In the company
of the Duke Anne was a charmed being, sunning herself
in the warmth of his pleasant courtesy and unmasked
admiration. She, at any rate, was convinced of his political
wisdom and listened most attentively to his grandiloquent
speeches of the diplomatic wonders he would work for
France as a tribute to her charms.

Unfortunately, Richelieu and Louis did not show the
same appreciation of Buckingham’s designs, and in the
field of diplomacy the Duke was not working the wonders
he had anticipated. To a less ambitious statesman the

183

BUCKINGHAM

concessions he did manage to wring out of the reluctant
Louis might not have appeared so negligible. But Bucking-
ham had staked his all on a desperate throw of the dice,
and the lukewarm aid which France now offered him was
nothing to show Parliament in return for the concessions
demanded for the English Catholics. To Richelieu
Buckingham had painted in glowing colours the prospects
of a combined attack upon the Spanish Netherlands, from
north and south simultaneously, hoping to dazzle him
by the tempting spectacle of the annexation by France of
the Spanish province of Artois. Surely, he argued, in
consideration of the military glory which must ensue,
together with territorial aggrandisement, the French could
not fail to desire his alliance. In return, he merely asked
the trifling matter of a few concessions to the French
Huguenots.

It was a blow to find his overtures, if not rejected, at
least very coolly received. The experienced Richelieu
trembled at Buckingham’s impetuous onslaughts upon the
wavering Louis, to whom the slightest semblance of a
threat was anathema. Afraid of the independence of his
Huguenot subjects he veered away from the English
alliance, afraid of the domination of Spain he inclined
towards it. Perhaps had Buckingham exercised a little
tact — a quality which unfortunately he did not possess —
he and Richelieu together could have led the French
Bang in the path where he now refused to be driven. The
bribe of Artois moved him not, and at the most he would
only consent to give £100,000 towards the King of Den¬
mark’s expenses, to pay Mansfeld for seven months
longer, and to reinforce him with two thousand French
cavalry. With regard to the Spanish war and the recovery
of the Palatinate he absolutely refused to commit himself^
but he did send a nobleman to R.ochelle to invite the

184

THE NEW KING

Huguenots there to send deputies to Paris to take part in
peace negotiations.

Buckingham, rightly or wrongly, felt thwarted. From
his standpoint, his mission had failed completely in its
object, and it is said that he used bitter language when
speaking to the Queen Mother at Amiens, declaring that
although the Huguenots might come to Paris on their
knees to beg for peace, it must be with rapiers in then-
hands.

His bitter feelings against France made him all the
more ready to listen to one who had seized his opportunity
to pour into the Duke’s ear insidious hints that perhaps,
after all, the Spanish alliance might be more valuable than
he had thought. Peter Paul Rubens — ambitious to shine
as brightly in the field of diplomacy as in the world of
art — had come to Paris in 1620 at the invitation of Marie
de Medici, with a commission to ornament the Palace of
the Luxembourg with pictures representing the cavalcade
of her reign. The Queen’s coffers, however, were usually
empty, and up to the present Rubens had found that there
was little financial return for his labour. But with the
appearance of the magnificent Duke of Buckingham in
Paris, the artist found a generous patron, who paid him
handsomely for the splendid portrait which he had
commissioned him to paint.

As may be imagined, whilst the famous favourite was
sitting in the studio of the great master, the conversation
would turn in the direction of politics. Buckingham vented
his bitterness against France into a sympathetic ear, and
had his Wounded pride soothed by the suggestion that
France was not the only ally worth seeking, and that per¬
haps even now Spain might have more to offer him. It
was all very delicately done, there was no attempt to force
Buckingham into an alliance with Spain — which, indeed,

1.85

BUCKINGHAM

he was hardly ready to consider — but the seed of an idea
had been sown and the artist was content to wait for its
germination.

It is unfortunate that in Rubens Buckingham did not
find sufficient outlet for his wounded vanity, so that he need
not have been guilty of the supreme indiscretion he now
committed. There is no doubt that by this time his mood
was angry and desperate, and he was ready to seize any
opportunity to avenge himself upon the vacillating Louis.
The means lay ready to his hand. Anne of Austria -
Louis’s wife — had shown no aversion to a flirtation with
the young English Ambassador, and it must have occurred
to him at this point that it would be a splendid retaliation
could he induce the impressionable Qjieen to fall a victim
to his charms. Her love would flatter his vanity, satisfy
his desire for revenge, and provide a very pleasant little
diversion.

So one evening in early June, Buckingham was walking
with Anne in the beautiful gardens of her palace on the
banks of the Somme. As they strolled down a lovely
avenue, bordered on one side by lofty elms, and on the
other by a tall trellis covered with wistaria, the magic of
the soft June moonlight provided a perfect — if dangerous -
setting for a love scene. They were alone, and suddenly it
appears that Buckingham began to whisper impetuous
words of passion to the Qjieen. Woman-like, having walked
into the net she now desired to be out of it, and screamed
for her attendants. When they arrived on the scene they
found Anne strangely discomposed and the Duke leaning
defiantly against the trellis, grasping the hilt of his sword
with one hand. Yet the Qjieen betrayed no sign that his
conduct had been improper, and merely remarked that
she was alarmed at ‘finding herself alone with Monsieur
l’ambassadeur’.

186

MINIATURE OF ANNE OF AUSTRIA

From an enamel by Petitot in the \ ictoria and Albert Museum

Jh fmtni\Ann oj tlx I itintti r’t.d Alt\*t Mu'twn

THE NEW KING

A few days later, Buckingham had to tear himself away
from Amiens, for the embassy was ended and he must con¬
duct Henrietta Maria back to her husband. It is said that
he openly displayed all the emotions of a despairing lover
at his separation from Anne. Then came a thoroughly un¬
licensed piece of conduct. At Abbeville, on his return
journey, the Duke was met by a courier with information
which necessitated his return. Back at Amiens, he confided
the tidings he had just learnt to the Qjieen Mother, and
then asked for an interview with Anne. As was usual in
those days, he was introduced into her private chamber —
she not yet having risen — and in the presence of her ladies
in waiting, he threw himself on his knees by her bedside,
and burying his face in the pillow poured forth a flood of
devoted and impassioned declarations. Anne complained
of his audacity, but was no doubt stirred and flattered at
his show of emotion, and did not show the amount of anger
his presumption deserved. This affair does not show Buck¬
ingham in a pleasant light, and naturally his critics have
made the most of it to prove him immoral and licentious.
But the very openness of his conduct leads us to the con¬
clusion that he was indulging his vanity, finding a strange
satisfaction in making love to the Queen herself and -w inning
her affection from her husband in the full sight of the whole
court. Yet if Buckingham’s wounded pride was appeased
by his making a laughing-stock of Louis, the difficulties of
the political situation were merely aggravated. Louis con¬
ceived a violent dislike for the impetuous Duke, and from
now on showed a marked disinclination to trust, or even to
listen to, his overtures.

Indeed when Henrietta Maria arrived at Dover on
June 12th, it seemed that she, poor child, was the only
tangible result of all the recent diplomacy. It was about
eight o’clock on a Saturday evening when the young Queen

187

BUCKINGHAM

set foot on English soil, feeling more than a little tired and
sick after a not too calm journey. That night she stayed at
Dover Castle, and by ten o’clock next morning King
Charles, eager to greet his bride, came down to Dover to
meet her. Upon his arrival she went to him and knelt at
his feet, taking his hand and kissing it. Whereupon
Charles laughingly stooped to her, and taking her up in
his arms kissed her and asked her about her journey, all
the time looking down at her feet for she seemed taller than
reputed, reaching up to his shoulder. Noticing this, she
showed him her shoes, saying to him, ‘Sir, I stand upon mine
own feet. I have no helps by art. Thus high am I and am
neither higher than lower.’ 1 This quick-witted, dark-haired,
dark-eyed little person of sixteen, with her quiet dignity and
self-possession, seems to have delighted Charles, and a con¬
temporary observes, ‘Yesterday I saw them coming up from
Gravesend, and never beheld the King look so merrily’.•
In truth, the British folk could not find it in their hearts
to be harsh to one so young and charming, and one and all
delighted in the royal romance, greeting their young King
and Qpeen with loyal acclamation on their way up to
London. For was she not a daughter of that valiant Pro¬
testant, Henry of Navarre? Forsooth, men murmured,
there were hopes of her conversion, for when asked if she
could abide a Huguenot, she had merrily replied, ‘Why
not? Was not my father one?’* At five o’clock on the
evening of Thursday, June 16th, to the accompaniment of a
great shower of rain, the new King and Qjieen, both gaily
dressed in green, passed under London Bridge on their way
to Whitehall attended by many barges of honour. The rain
did not deter the young couple from graciously showing
themselves to their people, and the banks of the river

* Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. m, p. 196.

Birch, Court and Times of Charles i, 1, p. 31.

188

* Ibid.

THE NEW KING

echoed and re-echoed with cheers as the Queen put her
hand out of the windows of the royal barge and waved
to the crowd. The Thames was crowded with vessels of
all descriptions, and no less than fifty ships discharged their
cannon in honour of their new sovereigns. Charles was gay
and happy, for this demonstration of loyalty seemed an
auspicious opening to the reign.

But superstitious folk regarded it as of ill omen that
King Charles and his first Parliament should have to meet
at Westminster during the raging of one of the worst
plagues London had seen. The weekly mortality in the
city often approached two hundred, and members came
up to Parliament at their own risk. From this a poor
attendance might have been expected, but on the con¬
trary, contemporaries are unanimous in declaring that
there had never been a keener fight for places in the House
of Commons. From all quarters of England men had come
up to the plague-stricken capital, impelled partly by a
natural curiosity to see their new King, and partly by an
anxious desire for some explanation of the warlike pre¬
parations he was making, and the line his future policy
was to take. Should this coincide with their own desires,
they were in no mood to thwart him by refusing the neces¬
sary supplies.

But two things had happened since James had last spoken
to the nation’s representatives at Westminster — Charles
had married a French Princess and entered into an unpro¬
ductive French alliance, whilst a continental campaign
had been undertaken and badly bungled. Whatever might
be the Commons’ idea of a war against Spain it did not
include French co-operation or continental warfare, even
attended by good results, so with the results as they now
stood the session seemed likely to be stormy.

189

BUCKINGHAM

When Charles stood up to deliver his opening speech to
the Houses, he had a task few would have envied, and he
fulfilled it in a typical way. It never even entered his head
to explain the reasons for the steps he and Buckingham had
taken. Without enlightening Parliament at all, he gaily
expected them to vote him large supplies for the conduct
of a war into whose secrets they had not been initiated.
Characteristically Charles reminded them that it was their
duty to support him —‘I pray you remember that this
being my first action, and begun by your advice and
entreaty, what a great dishonour it were both to you and
me if this action so begun should fail for want of assistance. 51

At first the members regarded the omissions in the King’s
speech as proceeding from his youth and inexperience, and
were inclined to find his terseness a relief after James’s
lengthy harangues. But it soon became evident that no
responsible minister had been commissioned to give them
that explanation of policy which they daily awaited, and
meanwhile, with the plague an increasing menace, their
position was unenviable. So it was proposed that the
Houses should adjourn, in view of the plague, until a more
favourable time could be found for the inquiry which must
precede a vote of supplies. The Commons did not wish to
offend their young King by being too hasty, and it was in
an effort to inform him as politely as possible that he had
not their full confidence, that they proceeded on June 30th
to vote him the totally inadequate amount of £100,000 for
the prosecution of his gigantic schemes abroad. After an
ominous speech from Phelips, the grant was raised to
£140,000, with a plea to the King ‘to proceed in his
governments by grave and wise counsel’.* The recent
disasters had been mentioned — however gingerly — by
Phelips, and though as yet no one named the Duke of

1 Debates in the House of Commons in 1625 (ed. Gardiner), p. 1. * Ibid., p. 31.

190

THE NEW KING

Buckingham, there were few in whose thoughts he was not
present as the proceedings continued.

Charles accepted graciously the obvious rebuff they had
given him, and without further argument instructed the
Lord Keeper to tell them that they might disperse, in view
of the increasing toll of the plague. Many interpreted this
to mean that the session was at an end, and more th an
three-quarters of the members departed for home, leaving
a much depleted Parliament to conclude the proceedings.
The King, despite Buckingham’s active intervention,
gained no satisfaction in the main business of obtaining
supplies, and, since money was urgently needed for the
preparation of the fleet, when the session finally closed on
July i ith, the Houses were informed that it was merely an
adjournment, not a prorogation, and a meeting was fixed
for August i st, Oxford being selected as likely to provide
a healthier locality.

In the interim occurred an affair for which Buckingham
was to incur much odium. In his last treaty with France
James had promised to lend some twenty ships to Louis to
assist him in an undertaking against Genoa. The engage¬
ment still held good, but signs had not been wanting that
the French King was considering using these ships to assist
him in a projected attack upon his Protestant subjects in
La Rochelle. The loan had been delayed as long as
possible, but when, during his embassy in June, Bucking¬
ham found that Louis seemed ready to treat for peace with
the Huguenots, Charles and he felt that the time was ripe
for the carrying out of the obligations. As yet they had no
reason to suspect the genuineness of Louis’s peaceful inten¬
tions towards the Huguenots, and they hoped that the ships
would merely be used against France’s foreign enemies.
So Captain John Pennington was dispatched to France
as Admiral in command of eight ships, some of them

191

BUCKINGHAM

merchantmen whose owners had only been quietened by
tbe assurance that they would not be used against the Pro-
testants. On May 18th, Pennington, still waiting to sail,
had received a letter from Sir John Coke, directing him
very definitely ‘that no clauses in the instructions given by
the Lord Admiral, nor in the contract between the French
Ambassador and the Commissioners of the Navy axe to be
strained to engage him, or the ships under his command, in
the civil wars of the French.’ 1 He was to serve the French
King against foreign enemies alone. When therefore, upon
his arrival off the French coast, the Duke of Montmorency,
Admiral of France, came on his ship and commanded him
to take aboard three hundred French soldiers, he declined
to receive more than sixty. Further, upon hearing that the
ships were to be used against the Huguenots under Soubise,
Pennington replied angrily that he would fulfil the letter of
the contract and no more. The French left him, declaring
their intention of writing to the English King, and in the
meantime Pennington wrote to Buckingham, letting him
know what had happened, and requesting further orders.
None arriving, he brought his ships back to the English
coast, his crews swearing that they would rather be hanged
or thrown overboard than fight against their fellow Pro¬
testants and the gallant Soubise.

Pennington’s action was not rebellion but merely a
faithful attempt to carry out the instructions given to him
by Coke. Meanwhile affairs at the French Court had been
leading — or perhaps misleading — Charles and Bucking¬
ham to change their views. At the end of June there had
been no mistaking the meaning of those in authority. To
Lorkin, the new English agent, Richelieu had said: ‘Peace
will be made (i.e. with the Huguenots), assure yourself of
that’, whilst another French minister spoke even more

1 Cal, S' P, Dopt' (Charles I), 1625-26, p. 65.

192

THE NEW KING

definitely: ‘If only the King of England will show that he
means to assist the King against the rebels, peace will soon
be made.’ 1

This explains the fact that on July ioth Pennington re¬
ceived orders to return to Dieppe and take aboard as
many Frenchmen as the French Admiral ordered. The
next day Sir John Coke forwarded to Secretary Conway
the news that the Captains of the merchant ships considered
themselves freed from any engagements in the matter, re¬
fusing to allow their ships to be used for such a purpose:
‘The owners say their ships are their freeholds, and they
say they are English free-born and will not put themselves
into French jurisdiction. Our seamen generally are most
resolute Protestants and will rather be killed or thrown
overboard than compelled to shed the blood of Pro¬
testants.’*

In a vain effort to please all parties by astute dissimula¬
tion Buckingham’s secretary Nicholas was now dispatched
to Dieppe with the following instructions, recorded by his
own pen: ‘To employ my best endeavour to hinder or at
least delay the delivery of the ships to the French,
but therein so to carry myself that the Ambassador might
not discern but that I was sent of purpose, and with full
instructions and command to effect his desire, and to cause
all the ships to be put into his hands.’ In the disputes which
followed he did his best to carry out these instructions,
bidding Pennington and the Captains give up their ships
whenever the French were present, but behind their backs
urging them to do nothing of the kind. Pennington played
his part by declaring that his men were so mutinous that
he could do nothing with them. To Buckingham he stated
his position clearly enough: ‘I had rather live my life with
bread and water,’ he wrote, ‘than betray my King and

1 Gardiner, v, p. 381. 1 Cal. S. P. Dam. (Charles I), 16*5-26, p. 58.

N 193

BUCKINGHAM

country of so precious a jewel as this.’ 1 Rather than sur¬
render his ship for such a purpose he would forfeit his life.

It was, no doubt, with the connivance of their commander
that his men now mutinied, weighed anchor, and set sail
for England on board the Vanguard. The merchant ships
remained at Dieppe, but their commanders refused to give
them up. When Pennington and the mutineers were come
to anchor in the Downs, the former sent an express mes¬
senger to Buckingham, informing him of what had hap¬
pened and that his men would sooner be hanged than
return to France. But Charles and Buckingham were again
wavering, having heard more definite news from France on
July 19th that peace was to be made with the Huguenots.
On July 28th, therefore, Pennington received a grave note
from Buckingham, informing him that ‘the King was ex¬
tremely angry with him for his delay in consigning the
Vanguard, and has sent him a strict and express warrant
which, if he desires to make his peace, he must not fail
punctually to obey. He and the merchants may do so with
better courage, peace being made with those of Rochelle’.'
So August 3rd saw Pennington sailing back to Dieppe to
place the ships at the service of the French, though only
one of the sailors consented to enter the service of the
detested foreigner. Charles and Buckingham felt quite
pleased with themselves, expecting that their admirable
diplomatic fencing until they were sure peace was con¬
cluded, must win them universal approbation in the forth¬
coming session of Parliament. They did not know that this
affair of the ships had not yet run its course, and was to
bring more than enough misery upon them ere it was
ended.

The Parliament at Oxford met in a factious mood, and
proceeded to attack with fury the religious concessions

1 Cabala, p. 321. * Cd. S. P. Bom. (Charles I), 1625-26, p. 75 .

194

THE NEW KING

which had been granted to the Catholics. Buckingham,
tired by now of the French alliance which had proved so
unproductive, decided to throw it overboard and go the
way of Parliament by promising to tighten up the penal
laws. But he was too late. Men no longer trusted him, he
was known to be a weathercock, and the ill feeling in Parlia¬
ment began to veer more definitely in his direction. There
was talk of the days ‘when old ambassadors of wisdom and
experience were employed, when our treaties and negotia¬
tions abroad were not unsuccessful.’ 1 No names were men¬
tioned, but it was understood to imply that under a certain
young and inexperienced ambassador, all our treaties had
so far come to nothing.

On August 4th when the King came from Woodstock to
meet the Houses in Christ Church Hall he had little to tell
them, contenting himself with asking for a subsidy for the
fleet and saying he would answer the petition they had
presented on religion within two days. Charles did not
give the members his full confidence but hoped, by
dropping hints, to move them to a liberal generosity.
However, they had reached the point where nothing fruit¬
ful could be achieved until they enjoyed the royal con¬
fidence and were no longer to be kept in the dark. At
length Phelips voiced the general dissatisfaction. ‘In the
Government,’ he stated clearly, ‘there hath wanted good
advice. Counsels and power have been monopolized.’ All
knew at whom he was striking, but he proceeded to go
further than an attack upon Buckingham’s power: ‘The
match has not yet brought the French to join with us in a
defensive war, or any longer than conduceth to their own
ends. The French army, which they say is gone, we hear
is upon return. In Germany the King of Denmark hath
done nothing. The best way to secure ourselves is to sup-

1 Debates in the House of Commons in 1625, p. 68.

195

BUCKINGHAM

press the Papists here.’ In conclusion, he desired that they
should content themselves with the estate and government
of the realm and ‘make this Parliament the reformer of the
Commonwealth’. 1

Phelips had stated the position of the Commons — they
would wash their hands of all this foreign diplomacy which
they could never hope to comprehend, since it was not ex¬
plained to them, and devote themselves to the reform of
domestic affairs. Charles and Buckingham had started and
conducted this war — let them finish it unaided and
shoulder all the responsibility! In spite of further violent
debates in which Buckingham’s followers vainly tried to
win over the Commons, they remained unshaken in their
firm attitude. It was in a final desperate attempt to regain
his lost popularity that Buckingham now decided to make
a definite concession with regard to the enforcement of the
penal laws, choosing to forget all he had formerly promised
to the French Ambassador. He spent Sunday, August 7th,
with the Council, debating that the promise drawn up and
signed by James had been merely an elaborate plan to
hoodwink the Pope. Perhaps no one but Buckingham
would have been capable of persuading himself that he was
not acting with the most profound duplicity, and dealing
the French King an insult which a proud Government was
hardly likely to stomach.

With all confidence Buckingham repaired next morning
to Christ Church Hall, where he had ordered the Commons
to assemble that he might acquaint them with the King’s
declaration. Even now his voice rang with assurance and
he seemed moved by a genuine sincerity to point out to
them the high wisdom of the course he advocated. Hoping
to sweeten their mood at the outset he commenced by
stating that they were to have all that they desired respect-

1 Debates in the House of Commons in 1625, p. 82.

196

THE NEW KING

ing the treatment of the Roman Catholics. With regard to
his foreign policy let us listen to him speaking:

‘Now the Valtelline is at liberty, the war is in Italy: the
King of Denmark hath an army of 17,000 foot and 6000
horse, and commissions out to make them 30,000: the
King of Sweden declares himself: the Princes of the Union
take heart: the King of France is engaged in a war against
the King of Spain, hath peace with his subjects, and is
joined in a league with Savoy and Venice. This being the
state of things then and now, I hope to have from you the
same success of being well construed which then I had: for
since that time I have not had a thought, nor entered into
any action but what might tend to the advancement of the
business, and please your desires. But if I should give ear
and credit, which I do not, to rumours, then I might speak
with some confusion, fearing not to hold so good a place in
your opinion as then you gave me whereof I have still the
same ambition and I hope to deserve it.’

In spite of all the recent disasters Buckingham was even
now optimistic enough to imagine that he could argue and
explain himself back into the affections of the people and
regain that popularity he had so irretrievably lost. His self-
confidence was still unshaken: ‘When I consider the in¬
tegrity of mine own soul and heart to the King and State, I
receive courage and confidence. Whereupon I make this
request, that you will believe that if any amongst you in
discharge of their opinion, and conscience, say anything
that may reflect upon particular persons, that I shall be
the last in the world to make application of it to myself; being
so well assured of your justice, that without cause you will
not fall on him that was so lately approved by you, and who
will never do anything to irritate any man to have other
opinion of me than of a faithful, true-hearted Englishman.’

The unmistakable sincerity in Buckingham’s account of

i97

BUCKINGHAM

himself leads us inevitably to the conclusion that he
honestly believed he was speaking the truth, and had not
stood up with the avowed intention of deceiving his
listeners. In all his great designs he seems always to have
had the future glory of his country before him, mixed
though it might be with the desire for the lustre which
would thereby attach itself to his own name. Examining
his objects we frequently find him actuated by the most
noble and uplifting visions — it was his method of a t tain ,
ment which fell far short of his ideals.

Let us go back to Christ Church Hall and hear the rest of
Buckingham’s explanation of his actions. After refuting the
suggestion that he had acted without counsel — for had he
not consulted with a Council of War in all matters? — he
proceeded to deny vigorously the idea that the fleet would
never sail. Did the Commons think that Charles and he
wished to make themselves the laughing-stock of Europe?

At the end of the speech came the part which all members
awaited with bated breath — the account of his future plans
from his own lips. ‘Hitherto,’ he declared, ‘I have spoken
of nothing but the immense charge which the Kingdom is
not well able to bear if it should continue: The King of
Denmark £30,000 a month; Mansfeld’s army £20,000; the
army of the Low Countries £8000; Ireland £2600; besides
twelve ships preparing to second the fleet.’ The alternative
which he suggested for this heavy expenditure on alliances
was not likely, in the present state of things, to appeal to
his hearers: ‘Make my master chief of this war,’ he cried,
‘and by that you shall give his allies better assistance than
if you give them £100,000 a month. What is it for his
allies to scratch with the Kin*g of Spain, to win a battle
to-day and lose one to-morrow, and to get or lose a town
by snatches? But to go with a conquest by land the King of
Spain is so strong, it is impossible to do so. But let my master

198

THE NEW KING

be chief of the war and make a diversion, the enemy spends
the more: he must draw from other places and so you give
to them.’ 1 This was fine rhetoric, no doubt delivered with
burning passion, but it made little or no effect upon the
thoroughly disillusioned House. Nothing was further from
their thoughts than the voting of a carte blanche to Charles.

Apparently Buckingham’s reference in the closing sen¬
tences of his speech was to a war by sea, which he imagined
would do more for their cause than the continued payment
of continental allies. So far the Commons were with him,
but they wanted to make a more direct attack upon Spain,
and would fain have dissolved the continental alliances and
terminated England’s share in the German war. But
Buckingham — without asking Parliament for definite sup¬
port — had dropped hints that he was not altogether
abandoning these alliances. Perhaps he was counting on
paying his allies from the proceeds of the treasure fleet —
when he had captured it! In any case, his explanation was
not satisfactory to the Commons. It left them vague, and
offered them no definite policy to support by grants of
subsidies. In addition, his speech had done much to
alienate the French, by its frank abandonment of James’s
promises of toleration to the Roman Catholics, and had
turned a large section of the latter body into his avowed
enemies. Altogether, far from winning him that popularity
he had hoped for, it left him more isolated than before.

The debate in Parliament which followed became
vitriolic upon the arrival of news that 800 Englishmen
had been captured at sea by Moorish pirates, and that
only eight leagues from Lands End! Meanwhile it was
common knowledge that Pennington’s ships were on their
way to help the French King — against the Protestants,
most men believed. Why did not the Lord Admiral employ

1 The speech is printed in Debates in the House of Commons in 1625, pp. 95-102.

199

BUCKINGHAM

his ships in the far more worthy object of suppressing the
pirates off our own coasts? At length the indignation
against him burst its bounds and this time he was attacked
by name, ‘Let us lay the fault where it is/ said Seymour,
‘the Duke of Buckingham is trusted, and it must needs be
either in him or his agents 5 . 1 Phelips went even further,
declaring that the safety of the country was too precious to
be entrusted to those incapable of discharging their office.
For the first time something very much akin to the doctrine
of ministerial responsibility had been plainly stated by the
Commons, and when they proposed to go into Committee
to draw up a petition on these lines to present to Charles,
the King decided to silence his rebellious subjects by the
only means within his power.

On the fateful morning chosen by the Commons for
drawing up their petition, they had scarcely taken their
seats when Black Rod was-at the door to order their dis¬
solution. The remonstrance was rushed through, to the
accompaniment of Black Rod knocking at the door. When
at last the doors were opened, it was finished, and the first
Parliament of Charles had terminated its brief existence.
But the struggle between King and Parliament had only
just commenced, not to end until Charles’s son, James, was
forced to vacate his throne in favour of a Dutch Prince
more than sixty years later.

In defending Buckingham, Charles knew that he was
fighting no less for his own prerogative, for never up to the
present had it been an underlying principle that the King’s
ministers should answer to Parliament for doing his bidding.
Elizabeth had effectively silenced her Parliaments for med¬
dling in matters touching upon the royal prerogative. The
formulation by the Stuarts of elaborate theories regarding
the divinity of the Kingship has led posterity to exaggerate

1 Debates in the House of Commons in 1625, p. 118.

200

THE NEW KING

the originality of Charles’s ideas. In reality he was Pairing
no precedents in fighting to preserve his authority. In his
struggle to save Buckingham — whom he honestly believed
to be acting wisely and effectively in the nation’s interests —
he probably never thought of divine right as such, but merely
sought to protect his friend from the attacks of those who
seemed to him to be dominated by a vicious thirst for power.

The Commons likewise had perhaps never stopped to
analyse their motives, and far from being guided by any
political theory of limiting the royal sovereignty, honestly
believed that they were protecting the King, no less than
the nation, from one whose inefficiency no longer entitled
him to wield such supreme powers. Never had they made
a greater blunder. Events were to show that to Charles the
person of Buckingham was sacred. A contemporary, com¬
menting on this aspect of the question, very naively ob¬
serves: ‘A happy moderation doubtless it had been in the
House of Commons if at this meeting they had winked at
the Duke’s errors, and fallen upon the consideration of
many particulars in Church and Commonwealth, which
more needed their help and assistance.’ 1

Buckingham himself seldom showed any great fear of
Parliament, and was indeed more friendly to this institution
than was his royal master. It was not until after Bucking¬
ham’s death that Charles proceeded to rule without a
Parliament. The Duke always imagined that he would be
able, when he met his detractors face to face, to win their
loyal acclamation and support by the brilliant arguments
he had to offer in his own defence. We never find him un¬
willing to take his place before the nation’s representatives
to give some enthusiastic account of his schemes for the
future, despite his past failures which he was ever prone to
ascribe to accident.

1 Simonds D’Ewes, Autobiography , I, p. 279.

201

CHAPTER X

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

Sanguine as ever, despite the recent attacks upon him,
Buckingham now proceeded to devote himself simul¬
taneously to what he hoped would be a brilliant diplomatic
coup and a splendid naval victory. His original design of
seizing some Spanish seaport fortress, and then taking the
treasure fleet now on its way from America, had not been
forgotten, and ever since the May of 1625 raw levies had
been pouring into Plymouth ready for service, most of
them becoming an ever increasing menace to the surround¬
ing country. It was now high time for the great expedition
to sail, if they were to seize the Spanish fortress before the
return of the treasure fleet. When he confronted another
Parliament Buckingham hoped to have at his disposal the
wealth of the Indies, with Spain lying prostrate at his feet.

At first he himself had intended to go in person in com¬
mand of the fleet, but now his services were required for
the diplomatic embassy to construct a Protestant alliance
in Northern Europe for the recovery of the Palatinate and
the prosecution of the German war. The Duke felt that he
would be more valuable: as a diplomatist than as Admiral
of the fleet, so he solaced himself with the title of‘generalis¬
simo’, delegating the actual command to Sir Edward
Cecil. Though well tried in land warfare, and a valiant ,
soldier, Cecil knew nothing of naval tactics, and there were
loud expressions of discontent because in the choice of
officers Sir Robert Mansell, an experienced sea commander,
who had dared to speak against Buckingham in the last
Parliament, had been passed over. The Vice-Admiral was

302

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

to be the Earl of Essex — again a valiant soldier, but quite
unversed in naval affairs, whilst the Earl of Denbigh’s only
qualification for the part of Rear Admiral, men said, was
that he happened to be Buckingham’s brother-in-law.
With such inexperience amongst the commanders, the ex¬
pedition, even if splendidly equipped, was in a fair away to
disaster.

With its equipment as it now stood, its failure seemed a
miserably foregone conclusion. Cecil quickly perceived
that the men who had been so hastily pressed for service
scarcely knew one end of a musket from the other. The
arms, indeed, with which they should have been practising
still lay aboard the ships in the harbour. According to one
report, the soldiers did not possess ‘the wherewithal to
cover their nakedness’, 1 and their starving condition led
them to pillage the surrounding country, killing sheep
before the farmers’ eyes. With such a rabble Cecil may well
have despaired of success at the outset, and wondered how
he was to deserve the new dignity of Viscount Wimbledon,
conferred upon him in anticipation of his forthcoming
triumph! Never had he seen anything less suggestive of
victory than the miserable sights which daily met his eyes
at Plymouth.

The trouble lay in the fact that there was no efficient
central administration for the supervision of the troops and
their provisions, and the local authorities were in a state
of complete confusion. Buckingham had taken too many
duties upon himself, and, unwilling to delegate any of his
powers to a competent subordinate, found himself faced
by chaos on all sides. The outspoken Lord Cromwell,
newly returned from Holland and the miseries of Mans-
feld’s expedition, ventured at this point to give the Duke
some sound advice. ‘They say the Lords of the Council

1 CdL. S . P. Bom. (Charles I), 1625-26, p. 177.

203

BUCKINGHAM

know nothing of Count Mansfeld’s journey or this fleet,’ he
wrote, ‘which discontents even the best sort, if not all
They say, it is a very great burden your Grace takes upon
you, since none knows anything but you. It is conceived
that not letting others bear part of the burden you now
bear, it may ruin you (which Heaven forbid). Much dis¬
course there is of your Lordship here and there, as I passed
home and back, and nothing is more wondered at, than
that one grave man is not known to have your ear, except,
they say, my good and noble Lord Conway. All men say,
if you go out with the Fleet, you will suffer in it, because,
if it prosper, it will be thought no act of yours, and if it
succeed ill, they will say it might have been better had you
not guided the King. They say your undertakings in the
Kingdom will much prejudice your Grace.’ 1 But no doubt
Buckingham tossed this letter of warning contemptuously
on one side, and continued boldly and fearlessly in his
ambitious designs.

On October 8th, 1625, eighty ships spread their canvas
to the winds which were to bear them upon their gallant
enterprise against the Spaniard. Many of the hulls were
rotten, and some of the badly patched canvas had seen the
historic battle of the Armada. The ‘ten brave regiments’
they carried were half starved, wholly unpatriotic and
thoroughly anxious to have done with the whole affair and
get back home. Thousands of raw recruits do not make an
army. The commanders had seen enough to justify the
most complete despondency. There had not even been
sufficient foresight in the councils at home to fix the point
of attack, and it was only after a hastily summoned council,
on rounding Cape St. Vincent, that it was decided to land
quietly at St. Mary Port in Cadiz Bay and thence spring a
surprise attack upon San Lucar, twelve miles away.

1 Cabala, p . 377.

204

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

But alas for their plans! On entering Cadiz Bay, the-
eyes of Essex saw a sight too inviting to pass by — the sails .
of some twelve Spanish ships with galleys by their side,
proudly lying at anchor near the walls of Cadiz. Forgetting
all orders, he set off to the attack in his vessel the Swiftsure.
In vain did Cecil try to get the rest of the expedition to
follow the headstrong Earl, hoping to repair his mistake.
The half mutinous crews were not of the same stuff as the
Elizabethan sailors who had won such glorious victories in
these very waters, and Essex was left to attack the Spanish
galleons on his own. The Spaniards, no doubt thinking
that a tremendous fleet followed the Swiftsure, fled up the
harbour. Now was the moment to follow them up and by
one brilliant coup crown the expedition with undying
glory. But the commanders displayed an utter lack of
initiative, and nothing was done. The English fleet quietly
anchored, deciding now to attack Puntal next day, having
given the Spaniards fair warning of their presence. As
might be expected, the enemy proceeded to fortify and
provision Cadiz, and all hopes of a surprise attack were at
an end.

The rest of this wretched expedition is dismal reading,
for most of the stories which are left are almost too
disgraceful to bear examination. In the attack upon Fort
Puntal under cover of the darkness next night, five Dutch
ships and twenty Newcastle colliers had been ordered to
open fire. Next morning Cecil found out that the English
ships had basely deserted their comrades, and that
the Dutchmen, most unequally matched, had lost two
ships and had to withdraw. In a vain effort to spur the
cowardly soldiers he rowed about amongst them, but with
no result. At length an attack upon the fort was com¬
menced by the Swiftsure and a few more vessels of the Royal
Navy, with the timid merchantmen huddling miserably

205

BUCKINGHAM

behind. When one of the latter fired a shot through the
stem of the Swiftsure, Essex furiously ordered the attack to
cease. It was only by landing troops that Puntal — which
should have fallen almost immediately to so large a force —
was taken by the English in the late evening. By now
Cadiz was so strongly garrisoned that all hopes of its
capture seemed at an end.

In the meantime a company of half-starved wretches had
been led by Cecil upon a six miles’ tramp to meet an enemy
reported to be approaching from the north. They had set
out hurriedly with no provisions, and now, desperately
thirsty after their long tramp in the hot sun, they fell with
avidity upon some casks of wine found in houses upon the
route. The poor wretches drank their fill, despite their
officers’ commands to desist, and ere long this detachment
of the British army sprawled in the ditches in a state of wild
intoxication. Their commander finally had to abandon
them, leaving them open to Spanish attack, for all attempts
to move them were futile.

Having thus lost time and men, Cecil returned to Puntal
to find that the general opinion was that the Spanish
position was so impregnable as to render attack impossible.
In truth, had a properly combined action taken place, it
was by no means impossible, but this miserable expedition
had no stomach for a fight. The fleet from America was
now expected, so it was decided to abandon Cadiz and sail
to surprise it. On October 28th the great expedition
majestically left Cadiz harbour, after as abject a failure as
had ever been witnessed. Worse was yet to come, for the
Spanish treasure fleet far out in the Atlantic had received
warning rumours, and this year made a wide detour, sailing
warily up the coasts of Africa to Cadiz by the south, whilst
the English fleet waited off the southern coast of Portugal.
On November 16th Cecil, seeing that they could hold out

206

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

no longer, gave orders to sail home without waiting any
longer for the treasure fleet — which, could he but have
known it, had lain quietly in Cadiz harbour since the last
day of October.

The returning fleet was in a sorry plight. The men had
fallen victims to the most terrible sickness, mortality was
on the increase, drink was scarce, whilst their food, said
one officer, ‘stinks so as no dog of Paris Garden would
eat it’. 1 The ships were leaky and many of their sails half
rotten. There would indeed be sore criticism of the
management of this ill-fated outfit when it arrived at Ply¬
mouth to tell its sorry story.

Whilst Cecil and his half-starved crews were vainly wait¬
ing in Portuguese waters, Buckingham had arrived at the
Hague, and by November gth was dazzling the eyes of
staid Dutchmen by his brilliant personality and magnificent
attire. It was soon clear that in his new scheme of alliances
he had definitely thrown France overboard. He is said to
have declared: ‘I acknowledge the power of the King of
France. But I doubt his goodwill.’*

The alliance he offered was, however, useless without
money, and it was in an effort to raise temporary funds
until Parliament should meet and grant supplies that
Charles had finally decided to pawn what remained of the
Crown Jewels. Inroads had already been made upon these
hereditary possessions of the English monarchy by James,
who had raised money on several valuable pieces to pay
the expenses of his Scottish journey in 1617. It is much to
the credit of the Spaniards that, upon the final breach with
England, they had returned by Sir Francis Cottington most
of the valuable gems which had been bestowed as presents
by Charles and Buckingham. These, together with a few

1 Cal. S. P. Dam. (Charles I), 1625-26, p. 174.
a Gardiner, vi, p. 35 -

207

BUCKINGHAM

diamonds in the personal possession of the King would, it
was hoped, satisfy the King of Denmark for the time being.

It was hardly anticipated that there would be much trouble
in inducing the wealthy merchants of Amsterdam to take
the jewels in pledge, but on a mission of such paramount
importance Charles felt that he required the services of his
most trusted minister. Buckingham took with him £ 60,000
of his own money to help pay the expenses of the King of
Denmark, and pawned his own jewels for the further s um
of £30,000. This readiness to pledge his private fortune is
a sufficient demonstration that his heart and soul were in
the cause, in whose chances of success he had a genuine —
if misplaced — belief.

The instructions drawn up for Buckingham in his diplo¬
matic embassy had directed him to make some effort to
reduce the enormous monthly sum of £30,000 with which
the English King had originally contracted to supply Chris¬
tian of Denmark. But it soon became obvious that such a
reduction would be followed by the complete withdrawal of
the Danish King from the war upon the Emperor, so
that when, on November 29th, the Treaty of the Hague
was drawn up between England, Holland and Denmark,
we find Buckingham solemnly promising to supply Den¬
mark with the original sum of £30,000 a month. The
States General were to allow her the more modest amount
of £5000 a month.

Had Buckingham knowingly entered into an engagement
which he could not fulfil? At first sight, this seems very
much the case, but an attempt to follow the probable
workings of his mind seems to clear him of any charge of
false dealings. He counted for the immediate fhture upon
his own private funds and what he could raise on the Crown
Jewels. And, with what appears to us altogether undue
opt im i s m, he daily expected news of the capture of the

ao8

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

Spanish treasure fleet, and the wealth which would thereby
flow into Charles’s coffers. Sanguine in his dreams of
brilliant conquest yet to come, he had no fear of facing the
coming Parliament, which he hoped to win over to granting
large subsidies in a tide of patriotic enthusiasm. He there¬
fore considered it perfectly safe to pledge his master’s word
to the extent of £30,000 a month rather than lose the
alliance of Denmark. The thought of failure Buckingham
refused to consider — it simply never entered into his
scheme of things. Even when his dream castles crashed
about his ears, he emerged smiling from the wreckage and
began to build them up again. We cannot but admire his
spirit, whilst lamenting the miserable calamities in which
it involved his country.

After the signing of the treaty between England, Holland
and Denmark the Duke began to consider the desirability
of securing France as a fourth on the list, but was met by a
plain statement from the French Ambassador that he would
not be welcomed in that country until the French cause in
England stood in a more satisfactory position. Some there
were who said that, in any case, Louis would not willingly
tolerate the presence of the one who had had the temerity
to make passionate love to his wife.

During the embassy at the Hague, there occurred a little
incident which throws a pleasing light upon the nobler side
of Buckingham’s nature. Although he had not received a
classical education, he was, none the less, like his royal
master, a great patron of the arts. His agents were now
scouring the States on his behalf, and in the course of their
travels they encountered a collection of rare manuscripts,
exquisitely written in Arabic, and sought out from the most
remote parts of the world by the diligence of one Erpenius,
a most excellent linguist. The widow of Erpenius,
fallen on hard times, had been obliged to offer these

o 209

BUCKINGHAM

treasures to the Jesuits at Antwerp, and it may be sure that
she would have received no great price for them. Moved
to generosity at the tale, Buckingham now instructed his
secretary, Dr. Mason, to give the poor widow the magnifi¬
cent sum of £500 for them, a price ‘above their weight in
silver’, 1 according to a contemporary. After Buckingham’s
death the Duchess presented this collection to the Uni¬
versity of Cambridge, since Dr. Mason informed her that,
had he lived, the Duke intended to raise a collection of such
documents to present to this University.

Buckingham remained in Holland for about the space
of a month, returning to the dread story of the disaster
which had befallen the much-counted-on expedition to
Cadiz. According to one diarist, the King and Buckingham
did not seem very much perturbed at the news, but if
this were so they were unique among Englishmen. On
December 16th the writs were issued for the election of
members to the forthcoming Parliament, and from all parts
of England zealous patriots, seething with ill-repressed
indignation against those responsible for the recent
blunders, were to take their places upon the Westminster
benches.

Charles was summoning Parliament, not out of any
desire to confer with the nation’s representatives, but
simply to wring from them a grant of supplies, now more
than necessary if he were to fulfil his obligations abroad.
Remembering the unseemly debates in the previous Parlia¬
ment, he decided to avoid all such catechism this time,
adopting a clever subterfuge to get rid of the unruly ring¬
leaders in the last assembly. Six members — Coke, Sey¬
mour, Phelips, Alford, Sir Guy Palmes and Sir Thomas
Wentworth — were selected for the doubtful honour of a
shrievalty. Since a sheriff was bound to attend to his

1 Wqtton, ‘Life and Death of George Villiers*, HarleUm Miscellany , v, p. 315.

2IQ

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

duties in his own county he could not be at the same time
a member of Parliament. ‘The rank weeds of Parliament,’
optimistically wrote Rudyerd, who was hotly in favour of
the war, ‘are rooted up, so that we may expect a plentiful
harvest. I pray God so temper the humours of our next
assembly that out of it may result the inestimable harmony
of agreement between the King and his people.’ A pious
hope, but it remained to be seen whether the hour would
not yet produce its man, despite Charles’s elaborate pre¬
cautions.

Meanwhile, further trouble was brewing which, in this
instance, was clearly not Buckingham’s fault, although it
was to be added to the list of his misdeeds by an irate
Parliament. It seemed more than likely that Charles was
going to meet his second Parliament with England openly
at war with France. Trouble had started between the two
countries when some French ships were seized by the Eng¬
lish officials on the grounds that they carried contraband
goods to the Spanish Netherlands. The French govern¬
ment demanded their restitution, which was refused. The
dispute melted itself down to a demand for the restoration
of one particular ship — the St. Peter of the port of Havre.
Charles refused to give up the ship until the French King
restored those eight English ships previously lent to him,
and which he was now clearly planning to use against the
Huguenots of La Rochelle. Charles now proceeded to
couch his demands in the most rigorous terms, taking up a
position which rendered open war imminent. On January
23rd he directed Buckingham to write to Holland and
Carleton, then negotiating in France, that he would accept
nothing less than the terms of the Treaty of Montpelier for
the French Huguenots, and required the instant return of
the ships he had lent Louis. If these demands were refused,
the ambassadors must return immediately.

BUCKINGHAM

Charles’s bitter feelings towards the French King were
no doubt due to a certain amount of misery he was ex¬
periencing in his connubial relationships, which he put
down to the evil influence of the French courtiers in Eng¬
land. He complained violently to Buckingham in letter
after letter about the insubordination of his young wife
and the insolence of her foreign attendants, repeatedly
requesting him to devise some means of getting rid of the
latter. But the spirited Henrietta Maria refused to change
her French ladies in waiting for the female relatives of
Buckingham, and a sullen estrangement grew up between
the young Queen and her husband. Matters became worse
when the Queen refused to take part in the Coronation
ceremony, which Charles had decided should take place
before the opening of Parliament. The King could not
appreciate his wife’s religious aversion to taking part in a
Protestant ceremony, and it was with a heart full of bitter
feelings against the French nation that he had to decide to
be crowned alone.

The quarrel with Henrietta Maria threw Charles more
and more into the arms of ‘Steenie’, whom he now loved
with a passion rare in one whose nature was reputed to be
so austere. The ceremony of the coronation, coming just
before the opening of another Parliament, served to
demonstrate afresh to the nation that the Duke of Bucking¬
ham would be supported whole-heartedly by the King in
all his actions — wise or foolish. The ancient office of Lord
High Constable was revived and conferred on Buckingham
for the Coronation Day only, and he took up his position
on the King’s right hand. Charles had chosen to be robed
in white instead of the usual royal purple, a symbol, it has
been said, of the innocence of his tragic martyrdom.

The ceremony was to take place in Westminster Hall, a
high stage and throne being erected at one end. For what

313

CHARLES I OF ENGLAND

From the portrait by Daniel Mytensin the National Portrait

Gallery

By cfiMtesj of f he _Vational Poiitait (hi! I try

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

followed, let us listen to the story of Sir Simonds D’Ewes,
who was a spectator on this memorable day: ‘I saw the
Duke, Lord Constable for this day, taking the right hand
of him (Charles) going up the stairs, and putting forth his
left hand to heave up the King; he, putting it by with his
right hand, helped up the Duke and, with a s miling coun¬
tenance, told him: “I have as much need to help you, as
you to assist me.” I dare say he meant it plainly, yet
searching brains might pick much from it.

‘Upon a table placed on the left hand of the estate, were
the regalia laid: which the Duke upon his knee bringing to
the King, he delivered them to several noblemen . ..’

So the procession made its way under a canopy to the
Church, the Knights of the Bath in their rich robes pre¬
ceding, followed by the King’s seijeants, the Masters of the
Requests, the Judges, the Peers, the Carriers of the Regalia,
and lastly his Majesty King Charles, who was presented
to his waiting people by the Archbishop of Canterbury,
with the following words: ‘My masters and friends, I am
here to present unto you your King, King Charles, to
whom the crown of his ancestors and predecessors is now
devolved by lineal right and he himself come hither to be
settled in that throne which God and his birth have ap¬
pointed for him, and therefore I desire you by your
general acclamation to testify your consent and willing¬
ness thereto.’ The fact that a general shout of ‘God save
King Charles’ did not follow this point was, in all proba¬
bility, not due to any unpopularity of the King —as some
writers have sought to establish — but rather, as D’Ewes
declares, to a variety of emotions in the audience. Some
expected the Archbishop to speak at greater length, others
were perhaps stupefied into silence ‘at the presence of so
dear a King’. At all events, when Lord Arundel told them
they should cry out ‘God Save King Charles’, there was,

213

BUCKINGHAM

according to D’Ewes, e a little shouting’. 1 Yet Charles
received loyal cheers and acclamations wherever he ap¬
peared during the rest of the day. As yet, the country was
more disposed to blame the Duke of Buckingham for the
recent disasters than its young King, who had that day
stood before them in all the glory of his early manhood,
nobility and enthusiasm clearly shown in his handsome
countenance, with his white robes a pledge of the purity
of his intentions.

Yet even at this moment Charles was allowing his
personal irritation to lead him to throw away the very
thing for which Buckingham had risked so much—the
French alliance. Could Charles at this moment have
forgotten his animosity to his Qjieen, and endeavoured to
meet Richelieu’s sagacious attempts to promote a friendly
union between the two nations, he might have had at least
one concrete result of all his past diplomacy with which to
confront Parliament. It was no part of the Cardinal’s
policy to provoke the English to an open war, and on
January 28th he was able to assure the English Ambas¬
sadors that the English ships lent to France would shortly
be returned, and the French would lend practical assistance
though nominally remaining neutral, to the English cause
in the continental war. The French Government was also
ready to meet the demands of the Huguenots, so that by
the end of January the prospects of a French reconciliation
and alliance seemed rosy.

Charles, however, seemed unable to meet the French
offers in the spirit in which they were made, observing to
Conway that in the agreement France was willing to offer,
there must be some excellent warrants and reservations
provided that were not expressed. A later letter revealed

1 The description of the coronation is taken from the letter of D’Ewes to Stu te
yille, Feb. 3rd, 1626, Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, pp. 216-18.

214

THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ

the fact that in the matter of the Huguenots Charles would
be content with nothing short of the position of absolute
mediator between the French King and his Protestant
subjects, whilst the foreign war was to be carried on in
exact accordance with his own designs. The dispatches
he thought fit to send to France at this period show a
determination not to meet the foreigner half-way, but to
dictate to him unconditionally upon the future line of
action. This obstinacy was not shared by Buckingham,
who would have preferred to pocket his pride and accept
the aid France now offered. None the less, when Parlia¬
ment met it was certain that the Duke, not Charles, would
have to shoulder the blame for the growing estrangement
between the two nations.

215

CHAPTER XI

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

The second Parliament of Charles at Westminster, which
was to make itself famous by its attack upon his friend and
trusted minister, had its official opening on February 6th,
1626. The King’s mood was soured and distracted at the
outset by a particularly annoying incident, serving to
embitter still further his feelings towards France. Anxious
to separate his wife from her French retinue, Charles had
told her that she must view the procession to Parliament
from the Countess of Buckingham’s balcony. But when
the time arrived, Henrietta Maria had not taken up her
required position, and to the King’s commands that she
should obey him, she offered the most spirited resistance.
Further reflection, and the advice of Blainville to yield on
this occasion, apparently shook her resolution, and when
Buckingham arrived to remonstrate with her, at the King’s
command, he found her ready to take his hand and be led
across to his mother’s balcony. But the Queen had, none
the less, bitterly resented the King’s action in sending
Buckingham to her as messenger, whilst the Duke himself,
speaking afterwards to a Venetian, could not but comment
on this peculiarly unfortunate episode, whereby, through
no fault of his own, he had incurred further dislike from the
Queen. ‘I would rather have lost every drop of blood’,
he declared, ‘than that this should have happened.’ 1 Nor
was Buckingham the only one to suffer by the incident.
Next day Blainville was forbidden the English Court,
since Charles blamed him for most of the recent trouble

1 Pesaro to the Doge, Feb. aoth, i6a6, Cal. S. P. Vm. (1636-37), p. 339.

216

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

with the Queen, and the prospects of Anglo-French amity-
seemed more remote than ever.

It was, therefore, with every prospect of a French war
in the offing, that Charles met this new Parliament. He
was in no mood for lengthy parley, and his opening speech
assured the members that he was no orator and desired
to be known by his actions, not words. They had been
called together, it must be understood, to grant supplies
and not to criticize his policy. Having stated his attitude,
Charles would probably see nothing untoward in his
entire omission of all explanation as to his past or future
line of policy. He no doubt expected that, having silenced
the factious members of the previous Parliament, this one
would follow him in a burst of unquestioning loyalty.
The Commons quickly indicated that they would do no
such thing. An inquiry was to precede any vote of supplies.

At first there was nothing personal in their attitude, and
Buckingham’s name was tacitly omitted from all dis¬
cussions during this first week of the session. A contem¬
porary writes: ‘I hear of a speech also made that week
somewhat eagerly, aiming at, but not naming, the Duke
of Buckingham: but it was not applauded, nor seemingly
liked, by the House. Some thought because unseasonable’. 1
The Commons were in no hurry to start trouble, but it was
clear that in their present temper there would be no grant
of money without some substantial inquiry into the
administration which had resulted in such depressing
failures. And such an inquiry inevitably pointed to the
Duke of Buckingham, since he who had undertaken all
things, must necessarily assume the responsibility for all
things.

The attack upon Buckingham, when it came, was likely
to be all the more severe in that men still retained much of

1 Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, p. aai.

217

BUCKINGHAM

their old superstitious reverence for the Kingship and the
theory that the King can do no wrong. Had Charles been
willing to deliver his friend up to the Parliament men as
scapegoat, they, in turn, would no doubt have shown their
appreciation by granting him the supplies he required.
But the King was soon to demonstrate that his character
was capable of no such degree of treachery. He would
stand by Buckingham to the end, affirming again and
again that those who attacked his friend attacked their
monarch. The principle at stake, although perhaps only
dimly — if at all — perceived by the combatants, was that
of ministerial responsibility.

Oddly enough, the Commons found their mouthpiece
in one whom Buckingham had had no reason to regard as
other than his friend, one who had not many months ago
declared himself the Duke’s ‘humble creature’ and desirous
of devoting himself to the contemplation of his patron’s
excellence. 1 This was Sir John Eliot, promoted through
Buckingham’s influence to the rank of Vice-Admiral of
Devon, a man whose position had given him unrivalled
opportunities of observing the miseries of the recent
disastrous expeditions.

At first, Eliot made no personal attack upon Bucking¬
ham, no doubt deterred by the warmth of the friendship
which had so long existed between them. On February
ioth he stood up merely to desire that inquiries into past
disasters should precede present supplies, and that some
account of the money granted since 1624 be given. With
fine rhetoric he sketched the course of the recent failures:
‘Our honour is ruined, our ships are sunk, our men
perished: not by the sword, not by the enemy, not by
chance, but by those we trust.’* There was no mention of
any minister by name, but Eliot had clearly stated the

1 Cat. S. P. Dm . (Charles I), 1625-26, p. j. * Forster, Sir John Eliot, 1, p. 486.

218

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

attitude of the Commons; there would be no grant of
supplies until a committee had met to inquire into past
disasters and to consider the wisest course for the future.
Without realizing it, this Devon squire was leading one
of the most momentous revolutions in our history, for
never before had it been an accepted axiom that the
King, or his ministers, were responsible to Parliament for
their conduct. Neither Henry VIII nor Elizabeth had
willingly allowed Parliament to pry into their management
of foreign affairs, and rated sharply any members who
attempted to do so. But messages couched in the imperious
terms of Elizabeth’s were of no avail in the present con¬
ditions, and when, on March ioth, Weston was charged to
deliver to the Commons the command that they were to
vote supplies and ask no questions, the House deeply
resented the insult.

At this critical moment, the words which all were aching
to say and dared not, found their utterance from the lips
of a man of no particular note — a certain Dr. Turner.
He voiced the common gossip of the day when he accused
‘that great man, the Duke of Buckingham’, of being the
cause of all the trouble, and demanded that certain burning
questions should be answered. 1 . Was it not upon the Lord
Admiral that the blame for the recent naval failure at
Cadiz should be laid? Had not the immense and exorbitant
gifts bestowed upon the Duke led to the impoverishment of
the realm? Did not the evil government of the nation
proceed from the multiplicity of offices which Buckingham
so inadequately filled, and from the incapability of those
he had raised to positions of trust? Why, even the recent
increase in recusancy could be traced to the fact that the
Duke’s mother and father-in-law were noted Papists!
And was not the sale of offices and places of judicature, of

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections, i, p. 217.

219

BUCKINGHAM

ecclesiastical benefices and promotions, which had become
a crying scandal in this realm, directly due to the Duke?

Turner was merely voicing popular rumour, and had
no proofs to substantiate his charges, but in the debate
which followed the House resolved: ‘That Common Fame
is a good ground of proceeding for this House, either by
inquiry, or presenting the complaint (if the House finds
cause) to the King or the Lords.’ 1 Here was the House of
Commons, ironically enough, turning upon Buckingham
the very weapon with which he himself had supplied it.
The right of impeachment, which he had so foolishly
resurrected in the hey-day of his popularity, was now to
be exercised against him.

As soon as the King heard of the Commons’ resolution,
he sent them an imperious message which might have
quelled a less desperate assembly. ‘This, His Majesty
saith, is such an example as he can by no means suffer,
though it were to take inquiry of one of the meanest of
his servants, much less against one so near to himself, and
doth wonder at the foolish impudency of any man that can
think he should be drawn, out of any end, to offer such a
sacrifice, much unworthy of the greatness of a King and
the master of such a servant.’* The King had clearly
indicated that he had no intention of throwing his minister
overboard and was narrowing down the attack upon
Buckingham to an attack upon his own regal authority.
But once Parliament had taken the bit between its teeth,
it was not going to be easy to check the attack, which was
now proceeding further than even Eliot had desired.

On the Monday following Turner’s outburst Sir William
Walter had moved the resolution in the House, ‘That the
cause of all the grievances was, that (according as was said
of Louis XI of France) “all the King’s council rides upon

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections, I, p. 217. * Ibid., 1, p. 218.

220

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

one horse”.’ 1 He proposed that Parliament should advise
the King, as Jethro did Moses, regarding the qualities he
ought to seek in his advisers, always remembering that
Moses chose elders, not young men. In effect, Parliament
was beginning to attack nothing less than the authority of
the Grown. Perceiving the trend of the recent speeches,
and anxious not to precipitate too disastrous a struggle,
Sir John Eliot now proceeded to do his best to assure the
King of the House’s inherent loyalty. The recalcitrant
members were ordered to explain away their words, and
the Commons declared that they did not wish to prevent
the King from carrying on the war, but they claimed the
right to investigate his wants and propose their own
remedies.

To this overture the King speedily replied, and on
March 15th the Commons were summoned to Whitehall to
hear their answer from Charles’s own lips. T will tell you,’
he began, ‘I will be as willing to hear your grievances as
my predecessors have been, so that you will apply your¬
selves to redress grievances and not to look after grievances.’
Then, proceeding to the question which touched him most
deeply, he continued plainly, T must let you know that I
will not allow any of my servants to be questioned amongst
you, much less such as are of eminent place and near unto
me. The old question was: “What shall be done to the man
whom the King will honour?” but now it hath been the
labour of some to seek what may be done against him whom
the King thinks fit to honour. I see you aim specially at
the Duke of Buckingham. I wonder what hath so altered
your affections towards him. I do well remember that in
the last Parliament in my father’s time, when he was
instrument to break the treaties, all of you did so much
honour and respect him that all the honour conferred on

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections , I, p. 319.

BUCKINGHAM

him was too little, and what he hath done since to alter and
change your minds, I wot not: but can assure you he hath
not meddled or done anything concerning the public or
commonwealth but by special directions and appointment,
and as my servant, and is so far from gaining or improving
his estate thereby that I verily think he hath rather im¬
paired the same.’ In conclusion Charles hoped that
Turner would be brought to account for his outburst
against the Duke, and declared that in all other respects
he was always ready to meet the Commons in their
grievances. 1 The unfortunate Turner had already been
thrust by illness into the obscurity from whence he had
arisen, but his words were not so easily to be forgotten.

March 27th was appointed for a consideration of the
whole subject in the House of Commons, and this time Sir
John Eliot definitely threw himself into the attack upon
Buckingham. How, he asked, could the subject wish to
give money for the conduct of such disastrous affairs as
those undertaken ‘by that great Lord, the Duke of Buck¬
ingham’? Had not the Cadiz expedition been miserably
bungled? What harm to our reputation had accrued from
Count Mansfeld’s miserable venture! And was it not a fact
that at home honours and judicial places were sold and re¬
sold until the whole administration had become a scandal?

By the expedient of quoting historical precedent Eliot
proceeded to point the way to future procedure in the
granting of supplies. During Henry Ill’s reign there was
a certain Hubert de Burgh, ‘a favourite never to be
paralleled but now, having been the only minion both to
the King then living, and to his father which was dead’.
De Burgh was removed from office, and supply, refused
before, was at once granted. Similarly, in the time of
Bichard II, ‘because of exceptions made against De La

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections , I, pp. 216-17.

222

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

Pole, the Earl of Suffolk, minion of that time, of whom it
was said that he misadvised the King, misemployed his
treasures, and introverted his revenues, the supply de¬
manded was refused, until, upon the petition of the
Commons, he was removed both from his offices and the
court.’ 1 These were unfortunate analogies, for Charles was
well aware that the downfall of Hubert de Burgh had been
succeeded by the rebellion of Simon de Montfort, whilst
De La Pole’s ruin was followed by the revolution placing
Henry IV on the throne. It seemed clear enough to him
that now, as then, the throne was again threatened!

So the next day the King sent a message to the Commons
to attend him upon the morrow at nine o’clock in the Hall
at Whitehall. Here Charles informed them that he had
come to show them their errors and to rebuke them for
‘their unparliamentary proceedings in Parliament’. To
the Lord Keeper he delegated the task of telling them where
they were at fault. They were cautioned to observe ‘the
difference between counsel and controlling, between
liberty and the abuse of liberty’. The recent attacks upon
the Duke of Buckingham were made in a complete ignor¬
ance of that nobleman’s real character and conduct. ‘His
Majesty doth better know than any man living the sincerity
of the Duke’s proceedings: with what cautions of weight
and direction he hath been guided in his public employ¬
ments from His Majesty and his blessed Father: what
enemies he hath procured at home and abroad: what peril
of his person and hazard of his estate he ran into for the
service of His Majesty and his ever blessed Father, and how
forward he hath been in the service of this House many
times since his return from Spain. And therefore His
Majesty cannot believe that the aim is at the Duke of
Buckingham, but findeth that these proceedings do directly

1 Forster, Sir John Eliot , i, p. 522.

223

BUCKINGHAM

wound the honour and judgement of himself and his
father. It is therefore His Majesty’s express and final com¬
mandment that you cease this unparliamentary inquisition.’

In conclusion the King himself addressed to them the
ominous words: ‘Remember that Parliaments altogether
are in my power for their calling, sitting and dissolution.’!

In view of the crisis which affairs had reached, and
fearing the veiled threat of dissolution, the Commons
proceeded to turn the House into a Grand Committee,
ordering all doors to be locked, no members to go out and
no other business to be transacted until this affair were
settled.

In the meantime Charles announced his decision that the
House should meet in conference to hear from the Duke’s
own lips his vindication of his conduct. The audience was
to be held in the Painted Chamber, a room splendidly
gilded, with magnificent frescoes, which would form a
perfect background for the Duke’s brilliant and handsome
personality. But the Commons were in no mood to appre¬
ciate beauty, either of person or environment, and it was
in a grim mood that they presented themselves to hear what
their young leader had to say.

Once again Buckingham’s speech rings with sincerity
and an ardent desire to win over the Commons. 2 Its
appealing phrases contrast strongly with the more coldly
uncompromising speech which the King had just de¬
livered. After explaining away Charles’s threat of a dis¬
solution and announcing the royal intention of forming a
committee to consider the state of the realm, Buckingham
spoke of his own intentions to serve his master and keep a
good understanding between King and People. ‘For my
part,’ he stated, ‘I wish my heart and actions were known to

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections , i, pp. 220-25.

a The speech is printed in Rushworth, Historical Collections, 1, pp. 227-32.

224

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

you all: then I assure myself you would reassume me to
your good opinions.’ The charge that he was willing to
countenance Papacy, nay, even to turn Roman Catholic,
after the fashion of his mother, he refuted by referring them
to the occasions in Spain when tempting offers were made
to him, would he but consent to be converted, all of which
he refused. £ If I would have converted myself I might have
had the Infanta to put in my master’s bed.’ Apparently
Buckingham honestly felt that he had acted according to
good counsel in the recent disastrous undertakings. Un¬
fortunately for him, the partisan nature of the War
Council had rendered its support negligible in the opinions
of the Houses. Let us listen for a moment to the Duke’s own
opinion of the responsibility for the miserable failure at
Cadiz:

T was most careful to advise the King to have his
Council with him, being to enter War with an active King.
I did diligently wait upon the Council, left all recreations,
all personal occasions, studying to serve my master and gain
the good opinion of both Houses. The Council of Wood-
stock generally advised the going out of the fleet: and
though it were objected that the season were not fit, yet
the action showed the contrary, for they all arrived in
safety. And for what was also objected, that the provision
was not good, experience tells you the contrary, for the
preparations were all good in quality and proportion.’

Sir John Eliot, who had seen the miserable, half-starved,
wholly untrained crews set out in their badly patched ships,
must have seethed with indignation at this last statement.
Perhaps, since the Duke was away at the time the expedition
started, and had not had time to give the preparations his
undivided attention, he honestly believed these preparations
to have been better than they were. This is giving him the
benefit of the doubt. For had he read any of the numerous

P 235

BUCKINGHAM

letters from the Plymouth Commissioners, he must have
known that the expedition was far from well equipped
With regard to the subsequent failure, he now urged that
he was not present in person, the King having required his
services in the Low Countries, although he had made the
greatest suit possible to His Majesty to allow him to accom¬
pany the expedition. This consideration the Commons
were more disposed to use as an indictment against him
than as a point in his favour.

He proceeded to acquaint them with particulars of the
alliances he had formed when in the Netherlands, and
touched upon his hopes of forming a league with France,
even at this eleventh hour. With regard to his personal
administration of his offices he gave them a few figures
which definitely proved his efficiency in this direction.
Far from making money out of the exchequer, he showed
them how he had repeatedly drawn upon his private
income for the payment of many of his expenses. This we
know to have been true, for the Duke continually displayed
his readiness to pledge his private fortunes in the cause he
was pursuing, as during the embassy at the Hague. There
is no evidence that he was guilty of the monstrous pecula¬
tion of which Eliot accused him.

Clearly and simply Buckingham proceeded to marshal
his facts in answer to the other charges made against him:

‘I am accused by Common Fame to be the cause of the
loss of the Narrow Seas, and the damage there sustained.
All that I can say is this, since the war began with Spain
I have always had twelve ships on the coast and allowance
but for four, the rest my own care supplied. And for the
office of Admiral when I came first to it, I found the Navy
weak, not neglected by my noble predecessor (for I cannot
speak of him but with honour), but through the not paying
of monies in time, there were such defects his care could not

226

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

prevent: that if the war had then broke out there would
have been found few ships and those unserviceable.’
All this is true enough. The long years of peace which
England had recently experienced had reduced the Navy
to a negligible factor, there was virtually no standing army,
and any attempt to go to war must have failed without
intensive preparation and training spread over a con¬
siderable period. Buckingham can hardly be blamed for
pre-existing conditions, but he should have recognized
that, with the nation in its present state of unpreparedness,
war was quite impossible. His self-vindication continued:

T was first persuaded to take this office (Lord Admiral)
by the persuasion of Sir Robert Mansell, and though I ob¬
jected I was young and inexperienced yet he said that by
my favour with my master I might do more good in pro¬
curing payment for that charge. I desired my master to
grant a Commission, as it were, over me. I have found a
great debt, the ships defective and few in number, the
yearly charge of £54,000 per annum which was brought to
£30,000. We built every year two ships and when so many
were built as were requisite, we brought it to £22,000 per
annum, which comes not to my hand but goes into its
proper streams and issues from the officers to that purpose
deputed.’

In conclusion he made a direct appeal to the Houses,
hoping that they would support his cause now that he had
explained it fully and, he trusted, to their satisfaction. His
confidence was still unshaken, he had faith in the ultimate
success of his designs. He felt that their attacks had pro¬
ceeded from misunderstanding of his objects, and was
willing to forget all personal rancour: ‘If any of you have
blamed me, I do not blame him but think he hath done
well, but when you know the truth and when all this shall
appear I hope I shall stand right in your opinions. Gentle-

227

BUCKINGHAM

men, it is no time to pick quarrels with one another: we
have enemies enough already, and therefore it is the more
necessary to be well united at home.’

After this magnificent appeal to their emotions, Secretary
Conway rose to substantiate the Duke’s statement that he
had always proceeded by counsel, whereupon Buckingham
again stood up — this time to reveal the full story of the
ships under Pennington, which had been used against La
Rochelle. He declared that in this matter he had ‘pro¬
ceeded with art’ to try and avert the surrender of the ships,
and that everything had turned out to the advantage of the
Huguenots, ‘For the King of France thereby breaking his
word, gave just occasion for my master to intercede a peace
for them, which is obtained, and our ships are coming home.’

There is no record of the immediate effect this lengthy
harangue produced upon the Commons, but since they
proceeded with their charges against Buckingham quite
unperturbedly, it must be assumed that they simply dis¬
credited his whole story as a pack of lies. If he had ‘pro¬
ceeded artfully’ with the King of France, according to his
own telling, who was to know that he was not doing the
same with them? So on April 4th they presented to Charles
a Remonstrance vindicating their right to call to account
the highest subjects, if they were enemies to the realm.
With the adjournment for the Easter recess Charles had a
slight breathing space.

To add to the present troubles, the King had proceeded
quite unnecessarily to throw away the friendship of France.
The original dispute respecting the seizure of French ships
as prizes of war had been allowed to assume altogether
exaggerated proportions, and since England persisted in
seizing and retaining French ships which she claimed were
carrying contraband goods, the French were obliged to
retaliate. This might have been amicably settled, had not

228

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

Charles displayed a stubborn determination to provoke the
French Government. On March 28th the English Am¬
bassadors Holland and Carleton were ordered to leave
Paris, since Charles had suspicions that Louis meant to
attack his Protestant subjects in La Rochelle. Slowly all
prospects of any alliance between the two powers departed,
despite Richelieu’s efforts to heal the breach. By April 30th
the Cardinal had finally decided to reverse his line of
policy, definitely throwing the English alliance overboard.
War with France loomed in the offing.

Rumours of all this trouble with France, considerably
embellished and distorted, reached the Commons, who had
reassembled on April 13th. The responsibility was laid to
the account of the Duke, as a matter of course. By now, had
London gone up in flames, Buckingham would have been
accused of incendiarism. The charges against him were
being piled up daily by the Commons, and all men knew
that an impeachment before the Lords was impending.

To make matters worse for the Duke, a more powerful
opponent had appeared against him in the Upper House,
and one who did not have to base his accusations upon
common fame. Charles had not made his peace with the
Earl of Bristol upon his accession to the throne, and during
the whole reign this nobleman had been a virtual prisoner
in his house at Sherborne, being told to abstain from pre¬
senting himself at the first Parliament of the reign until the
King had leisure to peruse the charges against him.

In January Bristol, weary of his long confinement, re¬
quested Charles to grant him permission to be present at
the Coronation ceremony, and received in reply a letter of
sharp reproof. c We cannot but wonder,’ wrote Charles,
‘that you should make such a request to us out of favour:
as if you stood even capable of it: when you know what
your behaviour in Spain deserved of us, which you are to

229

BUCKINGHAM

examine by the observations we made, how at our first
coining into Spain, taking upon you to be so wise as to
foresee our intentions to change our religion, you were so
far from dissuading us that you offered your service and
secrecy to concur in it, and in many other open conferences
pressing to show how convenient it was for us to be a Roman
Catholic, it being impossible in your opinion to do any
great action otherwise; the wrong, disadvantage, and dis¬
service you did to the treaty, to the right and interest of our
dear brother, sister and their children. The great estima¬
tion you made of that state and the vile price you set this
kingdom at. Lastly, your approving of the condition that
our nephew should be brought up in the Emperor’s court.’ 1
. These were charges which any honourable statesman
would prefer to meet openly, but Bristol was deprived of his
chance to appeal to the Lords by receiving no writ of
summons to the Parliament which met on February 6th.
He protested, demanded a writ, and was curtly informed
by Conway ‘That the King was no ways satisfied, and
therefore must propound unto him, whether he would
rather sit still and enjoy the benefit of the late King’s par¬
don, or waive it and put himself upon trial for his negotia¬
tion in Spain’. Bristol replied that he had already been
questioned upon twenty articles by a Commission of the
Lords, and had given full satisfaction, that he would neither
waive James’s pardon nor one whit of his privilege of being
called to the present session. Still receiving no writ, he
petitioned the Lords ‘That he, being a peer of the realm,
had not received a summons to Parliament, and desires
their Lordships to mediate with His Majesty that he may
enjoy the liberty of a subject and the privilege of his
peerage.’* So the writ was dispatched to him, along with a

1 Cabala, p. 185.

* This correspondence is printed in the Preface to the Earl of Bristol’s Defence
Camden Mucettany , vol. vx.

230

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

letter from the Lord Keeper, telling him quite clearly, in the
name of the King, that he had better forbear attendance.

Bristol chose to disregard the letter, and on the authority
of the writ he had received came up to London and pre¬
sented himself before the Lords, declaring that for two years
he had been kept a prisoner simply because Buckingham
was afraid of him. He was now prepared to lay an accusa¬
tion against the Duke, based upon the evidence of the
proceedings in Spain.

To save his favourite from open accusation in the Lords,
Charles used the only card left to him — he directed the
Attorney-General to accuse Bristol of high treason, and on
May i st the Earl was brought before the bar to listen to
the charges. The fight was growing desperate. Before
the Attorney-General could proceed with his accusation,
Bristol made a dramatic appeal to the Peers: ‘My Lords,’
his voice rang out in clear and strong accents, ‘I am a free¬
man, and a peer of the realm unattainted. Somewhat I
have to say of high consequence for His Majesty’s service,
and therefore I beseech your Lordships give me leave to
speak.’ Leave was granted. Then amidst a breathless hush
Bristol pointed his finger boldly at the great Duke of Buck¬
ingham, and, with a voice full of contempt, declared:
‘Then, my Lords, I accuse that man, the Duke of Bucking¬
ham, of high treason and I will prove it .’ 1

The situation was without any precedent. Here was a
peer, a freeman, unattainted as he himself declared, yet
already accused by His Majesty of treason, offering a
charge of deep moment against the highest of the King’s
ministers. Never had the Lords been in a like dilemma, and
to save their authority and yet not offend their King, it
was decided that the two charges should proceed simul¬
taneously, the Attorney-General having precedence.

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles /, i, p. 99.

231

BUCKINGHAM

Londoners seethed with excitement as the news of what
was taking place reached them. During this memorable
first week of May the Duke of Buckingham came to Parlia-
ment with an unwontedly shabby equippage, ‘My Lord
Duke came to the House in an old coach, some three foot¬
men, and no attendance’. In strange contrast, the Earl of
Bristol was strikingly gay, for he appeared at Westminster
‘with eight horses, his own horse brave and rich with cloth
of gold and tissue’. 1 It is most likely that Buckingham was
anxious not to arouse popular resentment by his usual dis¬
play, and felt that a show of poverty would best serve his
cause in the present crisis. It was universally affirmed that
the King would support Buckingham to the end, not
stopping at a dissolution should matters reach too dangerous
a height, and Bristol’s life was popularly adjudged to hang
upon a very slight thread.

On the appointed day there was a breathless gathering in
the Upper House to hear the Attorney-General read the
King’s charges against the Earl of Bristol. The attempt to
change Charles’s religion was, naturally, the main accusa¬
tion, together with a statement that Bristol had concealed
the fact that the Spaniards were not in earnest over their
promises, and had thereby compelled Charles to have to
journey to Madrid, at great personal risk, to find out the
truth for himself. Furthermore, the Earl had doubted one
of Buckingham’s statements in his relation to the Parlia¬
ment of 1624, which the King had affirmed to be true.
Bristol had thus indirectly given His Majesty the lie. Such
charges were patently forced, and did not weigh in
the balance nearly so heavily as those which Bristol pro¬
ceeded to advance against Buckingham.

Boldly Bristol now brought forth his accusations against
the Duke, although he must have known that his temerity

1 Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, p. 224.

232

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

might easily cost him his head. The principal charge was
that Buckingham had plotted with Gondomar, as early as
1622, to take the Prince into Spain, with the avowed intent
of changing his religion, which amounted to treason of the
most dangerous kind. In Spain his actions had led the
Spaniards to entertain hopes of his conversion. He had
attended Roman Catholic services, and openly bowed the
knee before the altar. Furthermore, his obnoxious be¬
haviour in Spain had finally broken up the negotiations
altogether. 1

Charles and Buckingham must have trembled at the
speeches of the intrepid Earl, for they knew that it lay in
his power to hand over much private correspondence which
would hardly help their cause in the present dilemma. So
Charles dramatically interrupted the proceedings, declar¬
ing that Bristol spoke out of the depth of his hatred for
Buckingham, and that he himself would be a witness to
testify that all the evidence he had brought forward was
false. But the investigation proceeded, and Bristol even
went so far as to obtain Pembroke’s support to the state¬
ment that Buckingham, out of fear, had proposed to have
him sent to the Tower on his return from Spain.

Frantically Charles interfered again. He was fighting
desperately to save Buckingham, and incidentally himself,
for his own authority lay in jeopardy during these fateful
days of May. This time he contested the legality of counsel
being allowed to Bristol upon such a charge.

Calmly the Peers proceeded to debate upon the two
messages they had received from the King during the con¬
duct of the trial. Slowly the idea of the infallibility of the
monarch was fading from the minds of Englishmen. The
King’s messages were treated at their face value. With

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections, I, pp. 249-62; Elsing, Notes of Debates in
the House of Lords (1624-26), ed. Gardiner, pp. 157-61. .

233

BUCKINGHAM

regard to the first, the Lords strongly doubted the propriety
of His Majesty’s giving evidence in the trial of a subject
whilst they had precedents to prove that Bristol was quite
legally entitled to counsel. 1

Charles saw that he was losing, and it is doubtful to what
new steps he would have been driven to save his friend had
not interruption come from a most unexpected quarter. A
deputation from the Commons had arrived at the Upper
House with their carefully prepared charges against Buck¬
ingham, and requested that a conference should meet
immediately and proceed with the impeachment. So the
smaller trial was automatically stopped for the greater, and
Parliament proceeded to the impeachment of the Duke of
Buckingham.

On the afternoon of May 8th, a committee of eight
selected members of the House of Commons, each with two
assistants, presented themselves before the Lords to prefer
their charges. Contrary to the usual custom, Buckingham
took up his habitual place amongst the Peers, sitting directly
opposite his accusers, and showing his contempt for their
attack by laughing contemptuously in their faces during the
whole proceedings. Glanville delivered the opening speech,
in highly fanciful metaphor, comparing the Parliament to
the Universe, the Upper House to the Stars, the Commons
to the Lower World, the King to the Sun: the stars, he
declared, received light from the sun, the House of Com¬
mons from them: but alas, the firmament was become dim
and the stars sent but little light, by reason of a great
blazing comet, which kept the light of the sun from them.
It was not difficult to guess the identity of the comet, and
the Duke, apparently, displayed such open derision at this
effusion that Glanville was obliged to halt in his further
reading of the charge to expostulate with him: *My Lord,

1 Elsing’8 Notes of Debates in the House of Lords (1624-26), pp. 176-85.

234

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

do you jeer at me? Are these things to be jeered at? My
Lord, I can show you when a man of greater blood than
your Lordship, as high in place and power, and as deep in
the favour of the King as you, hath been hanged for as
small a crime as the least of these articles contains.’ 1

A more significant speech was made by Digges, who, all
unwittingly, proceeded to challenge nothing less than the
royal sovereignty: ‘The laws of England,’ he declared, ‘have
taught us that Kings cannot command ill or unlawful
things. And whatsoever ill events succeed, the executioners
of such designs must answer for them.’ 8 The King’s ser¬
vants were to be responsible to Parliament, and so indirectly
the King himself. Repeatedly had Charles informed the
Houses that Buckingham had done nothing which he him¬
self had, if not commanded, at least sanctioned. It was in
vain that they, in turn, declared they were protecting
Charles against a servant who had betrayed his trust. Charles
regarded Buckingham’s actions as his own, and for these
he believed himself responsible to God alone. What the
King approved was well done, and it behoved no subject
to question it. The monarch was above all law, and
answerable to no Parliament for his conduct. The Com¬
mons, apparently, could not — or would not — see this
aspect of the question. Whilst they were in reality calling
Charles’s authority into question, they constantly declared
that they were protecting that authority.

As will be realized, it was difficult for the Commons to
know how to formulate their charges, since so many of
Buckingham’s actions dovetailed into those of the King,
and against the King they must be careful to make no open
attack. So on many points they were obliged to be silent.
In all, they had drawn up thirteen articles of impeachment

1 Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. hi, p. 226.
8 Rushworth, Historical Collections , 1, p. 3°o-

235

BUCKINGHAM

which were now to be brought forward by the various
members who were managing the affair. Edward Herbert
opened the charge by advancing the accusation that the
Duke, ‘being young and inexperienced, had, with
exorbitant ambition and for his own advantage, procured
and ingrossed into his own hands several great offices’. He
had bribed the Earl of Nottingham with £3000, and an
annuity of £1000 to surrender to him the office of Lord
High Admiral. Similarly, he had proceeded to compound
with Lord Zouch for the surrender of his office of Lord
Warden of the Cinque Ports, paying him £1000 and an
annuity of £500. Selden then arose, and accused Bucking¬
ham of having neglected the guarding of the seas, and
broken his trust as Lord Admiral. He also charged him
with having given the order for the seizure of the St. Peter
of Havre de Grace, which he had taken as a prize of war,
no doubt to swell his own revenues. Glanville proceeded
with a further charge that the Duke, during James’s reign,
had enforced his royal master to extort from the East India
Company £10,000 to release certain of their ships which he
had stopped from proceeding on their intended voyage.
Also about the end of July last, the said Duke as Lord
Admiral had, ‘by indirect and subtle means and practices’,
procured one of the principal ships of his Majesty’s Navy
called The Vanguard to be put into the hands of the French
King. And that, furthermore, he had known and abetted
the French intention to use these ships against the
Huguenots of La Rochelle.

This comprised eight of the articles, to all of which
Buckingham had listened with a slight smile of superiority
upon his handsome face. He knew enough of the secret
working of these affairs to which the Parliament men had
referred to realize that his acts were too intimately bound up
with those of the late and the present King to lay him open

236

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

to any serious indictment. When the time arrived, he
would be able to stand calmly before his accusers, and
point out their error in each one of the charges they had
preferred.

The remaining five articles of impeachment were read on
May 10th and this time Buckingham was not present.
Sherland accused the Duke of having, during James’s
reign, sold the office of Lord Treasurer to Lord Mandeville
and that of Master of the Wards to Middlesex for £20,000
and £6000 respectively. Pym affirmed ‘that he had pro¬
cured divers titles of honours to his mother, brothers,
kindred and allies of small estate, to the prejudice of the
nobility and damage of the crown’. Furthermore, he had
obtained from the King grants of divers manors, part of the
Duchy of Lancaster, and of other lands belonging to the
crown. He had also received enormous sums of money for
his own private use, to the great diminution of the royal
revenues.

To Wandesford was left the last charge, which had been
added as an afterthought, and needed very careful
handling. Buckingham had administered medicine to the
late King, but it was no part of the Commons’ programme
to bring trouble upon themselves by directly accusing him
of poisoning James. For might not such a charge reflect
upon Charles? So the popular talk of poison was tacitly
omitted, and it was merely objected ‘that the said Duke,
without any sufficient warrant, did unduly cause and
procure certain plaisters and a certain drink or potion to
be given to his late Majesty, after which divers ill symp¬
toms did appear upon his said Majesty.’ 1

This concluded the thirteen articles of impeachment,

1 The account of the Impeachment is taken from Lords’Journals, in, pp. 619-624;
Rushworth, Historical Collections, 1, pp. 3 ° 6 - 53 ! Documents frustrating toe Im¬
peachment of the Duke of Buckingham, ed. Gardiner, Camden Society Pub., New
Series, vol. 45.

BUCKINGHAM

which had painted the Duke as an obnoxious, self-seeking,
arrogant monster, anxious only to pursue his personal
aggrandisement at the expense of both his country and his
sovereign. The Commons, believing honestly in every one
of the charges, and bewildered in their attempts to save their
beloved country, only imagined that they were acting for
the best in thus essaying Buckingham’s removal from the
government. Charles, having the deepest affection for his
friend, and the highest possible opinion of his wisdom, was
rapidly becoming more enraged with his ‘faithful Commons’
who, he considered, were doing all in their power to wound
him. The Duke himself seemed the least perturbed of all
men. He had laughed at the accusations, and, on the whole,
seemed to treat them lighdy. The charge of poisoning
James — as it virtually was — was the only one which
really enraged him, and rightly so, for the man who could
poison his benefactor would be vile indeed. It is now
generally admitted that there is no evidence that Bucking¬
ham poisoned the King. He died from natural causes, no
doubt hastened by excessive indulgence in rich Suits
and wines. In any case, Buckingham’s frank and im¬
petuous nature was not the stuff of which poisoners are
made.

It only remained to sum up the evidence against the
Duke, and this was left to Sir John Eliot, whose gift of
mighty rhetoric was best suited for such a task. This
famous speech established Eliot’s claim to oratorical fame
and left as false an impression of the man he attacked as
can be imagined. Allowing his fine imagination to run
away with him, Eliot launched a violent attack upon his
erstwhile patron and boyhood companion. ‘The inward
character of the Duke’s mind,’ he cried out to the excited
assembly, ‘is full of collusion and deceit. I can express
it no better than by the beast, called by the ancients

238

SIR JOHN ELIOT

From an engraving by \\\ HoIL Jrom the original m Port Eliot

Phots: Mum st H

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

Stellionatus, a beast so blurred, so spotted, so full of foul
lines that they knew not what to make of it.’ Unfortunately
the picture which Eliot now proceeded to paint was almost
as mythical as the beast to which he referred. In highly
coloured rhetoric, he attacked Buckingham’s conduct. He
had seized all power into his own hands by ‘raising and
preferring to honours and commands those of his own
alliance, the creatures of his kindred and affection’, and
furthermore, ‘by emptying the veins the blood should run in
he had cast the body of the kingdom into a high consump¬
tion’. How had he used the vast treasures which poured
into his coffers? No need to seek far — ‘it is too visible. His
profuse expenses, his superfluous feasts, his magnificent
buildings, his riots, his excesses, — what are they but the
visible evidences of an express exhausting of the state, a
chronicle of the immensity of his waste of the revenues of
the Crown?’ With regard to his administration of medicine
to James, Eliot had even more to say. ‘Not satisfied with
the wrongs of honour, with the prejudice of religion, with
the abuse of the state, with the misappropriation of
revenues, his attempts go higher, even to the person of his
sovereign’. He was treading on dangerous ground, and
well might declare that what this inferred he hardly dare
think, let alone speak.

The speech would hardly be complete without an apt
comparison, but where in history could one find such a
one? To Eliot the Duke most closely resembled Sejanus,
who was described by Tacitus as ‘audax, sui obtegens, in
alios criminator, juxta adulatio et superbia\ All these
qualities, he declared, were to be found in the Duke. He
was bold beyond comparison, secret in his designs, a
slanderer of others, whilst his flattery and pride were such
as had seldom been seen. But even further did Ehot proceed
to push the parallel. In the name of Sejanus he attacked the

239

BUCKINGHAM

Duke in language which otherwise he would never have
dared to formulate. 1

His burning rhetoric had expressed to the full the violent
indignation which the country had gradually come to hold
against Buckingham. It would be vain to deny that much
of what he had said was true. The government of the
nation, under the sway of the favourite, had become a
scandal. It was well known that any rise to power was
impossible without gaining the Duke’s favour, a most
intolerable method of approach to high place. Bucking¬
ham’s vanity and incompetence led him to entertain
jealousy and fear of those who displayed real ability and
independent views. This is probably the explanation of his
persistent rebuffs to the overtures of Sir Thomas Went¬
worth who, during these early years of Charles’ reign, had
indicated, on more than one occasion, a readiness to serve
his King in the cause of good government. Wentworth had
no personal rancour against the favourite, and whilst not
agreeing with his policy and deprecating his foolish
excesses, recognized the futility of wasting time in an
attack on the King’s friend. Yet his efforts to come to some
understanding with Buckingham were received in no
friendly spirit, and he had been debarred from seeking
election to the present Parliament. Even Charles had shown
astonishment on seeing his name in the list of sheriffs.
‘Wentworth is an honest gentleman’, he remarked, but
left it at that. Buckingham’s will was law, and those whom
he feared must be silenced. So men of high talent were
excluded from power, and their places taken by Bucking¬
ham’s creatures, whose sycophancy had gained them his
favour. Not only did Buckingham himself hold an un¬
warranted plurality of offices, but by this means he

1 The speech is printed in Rushworth, Historical Collections, I, pp. 353-56; and
in Forster, Sir John Eliot , i, pp. 541-52.

240

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

indirectly controlled every high post. It was vain for him
to assert — as later in his defence — that many of the
positions he held were non-lucrative. What he had seized
was far greater than money. In his hands he held the
virtual control of national affairs.

In all fairness to him, it must be remembered that he had
a very genuine belief that his own plans were for the good
of the nation, and those of the opposition the highway to
its destruction. And in such beliefs, he was strongly
supported by the King. So that, even towards the end,
when this tremendous burden of responsibility was
wearying him beyond all measure, he continued to bear it
staunchly, convinced that he alone could work the salva¬
tion of the country. It was vanity, no doubt, but a type of
vanity in which there was something admirable. Bucking¬
ham had that will to succeed which might, in happier
days, have brought him success. But he wielded his
authority in times when England and her age-long institu¬
tions were in the melting pot, and few there were who dare
have prophesied what would be the outcome of the strange
new ideas fermenting in men’s minds. With more inherent
virtue, perhaps, than any other English King, Charles
was to end on the scaffold. Neither he nor Buckingham
recognized that the time had passed when one man could
force his will upon a rebellious England. That nation
which had merely murmured at the scoldings of Elizabeth,
was ready to explode with wrath at a word from Charles
or his friend.

In such days it was necessary to tread carefully, but
Buckingham apparently could not, or would not, see this.
By his own foolish display, he had laid himself open to the
serious charge of peculation which Eliot had advanced
against him. That it was unjustifiable enough now seems
highly probable, but Sir John had been led astray by

a * 4 *

BUCKINGHAM

outward shows. He was forced to view Buckingham’s
excesses and profuse waste of public funds in times when the
realm cried out in poverty, and expeditions failed miserably
from the most deplorable lack of money. To the ma^
had seen misery and confusion in the streets and dockyards
at Plymouth, the tales of the Lord Admiral’s latest banquet
— often reaching a figure as high as £600 — must have been
nauseating. We can imagine that, as he had witnessed,
during the past few years, the expenditure of such enormous
sums as £22,000 for one estate, and as much again for the
mere improvement of another, £10,000 for a collection of
pictures, or a similar amount for a single piece which took
the extravagant Duke’s fancy, the inward ferment in the
mind of one who was, whatever his faults, a keen patriot,
must have become intolerable. It seemed to him that all
this money might have been better applied, and no doubt
he was right. On the other hand, Eliot and many others
were wrong in supposing that vast sums — which we know
now were applied by Buckingham to public purposes —
had been appropriated by him for his own personal use. 1
Neither can we forget that on innumerable occasions
Buckingham had shown himself willing to spend his
fortunes freely upon national enterprises.

There is no denying that the favourite had received
excessive grants of money from the Crown in times when
any available surplus could more profitably have been
devoted to national purposes. A contemporary noticed,
during his rise to power, that gifts and honours were
poured upon him by a doting King ‘liker main showers than

1 In his defence Buckingham revealed that the £20,000 supposed to have been
given to him by Lord Mandeville, upon his being made Lord Treasurer, never
came into his hands at all, but was paid to Porter ‘by the late King’s appointment,
to be disposed of as His Majesty should direct’. The whole of the money was paid
out to others, and Buckingham never had a penny of it. In the same way, the
£6,000 he was said to have received for procuring the Mastership of the Wards
for Middlesex, was in reality bestowed by James upon Sir Henry Mildmay, the
Duke having no share of it. See Buckingham’s Defence, Lords* Journals, ill, P* ^ 5 ^*

242

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

sprinkling drops or dews’. 1 But if Buckingham were at
fault in accepting these grants, then the King must have
been equally guilty. There is no adequate reason for
supposing that Buckingham’s large income was ever
anything but freely given to him by both James and
Charles. The very grave charge of peculation which
Eliot had advanced against the Duke was supported by no
sufficient evidence.

The country as a whole, however, would give ear readily
to any accusation against Buckingham, the more violent
the better. No doubt Eliot himself had been carried away
to some extent by the popular antipathy to the favourite.
It is inevitable that around such a great and magnificent
figure a certain amount of legend should have gathered.
Trivial stories always excite men’s imagination and
passion, and Buckingham’s unpopularity must have been
increased a thousandfold by such tales as that which told
how, when in Paris in 1625, he went about shedding
diamonds which he was too proud to pick up. This fantastic
rumour most likely had its only grain of truth in the more
probable story that one evening, purely by accident, the
Duke lost a diamond from his famous white velvet suit, and
was fortunate enough to recover it next morning.’ Simi¬
larly, his magnificent banquets and splendid entertain¬
ments, lavish and extravagant though they certainly were,
had none the less been unduly magnified by scandal¬
mongers into riotous orgies and iniquitous excesses. Taking
into consideration the vast number of duties performed by
Buckingham — however inadequately — we are left to
wonder in amazement when he ever found time for the
inordinate self-indulgence attributed to him. Nor is it
likely that Charles, with his high ethics and lofty philosophy,

1 Wotton, ‘Life and Death of George Villiers’, Harldan Misc., v, p. 309.

* Ibid., p. 314.

243

BUCKINGHAM

would have taken to his heart a foul monster after the type
of Eliot’s ‘Stellionatus 5 .

All that Eliot had said about Buckingham was in effect
only a half truth. He saw things in black and white. His
was not the mentality even to attempt the unders tandin g
of such an enigma as Buckingham’s character. A calmer
judgment might have paused to weigh up the strangely
inconsistent qualities which existed side by side in the
favourite’s baffling personality. That nature which seemed
to Eliot so mean and selfish could at times show itself
capable of great sacrifice and unselfish devotion. Along
with the desire for fine clothes, jewels, ostentatious artistic
collections, and extravagantly furnished mansions,
Buckingham often evinced an amazing disregard for money
as such. He who was supposed to have amassed enormous
stores of wealth by the impoverishment of the realm, left
at his death a widow and children in circumstances which
could hardly be described as affluent. The one whom Eliot
denounced as a traitor to the nation, seeking only his own
personal aggrandisement at the expense of King and
Country, showed unmistakably, on countless occasions, the
most sincere — if misplaced — enthusiasm for the glory of
Great Britain abroad, and a supreme readiness to spend his
life in her service. This noble enthusiasm was, no doubt,
nullified by his enormous vanity — that vanity which saw
no wisdom in the views of others — but it was unmarred by
treachery. Proud, vain, intolerant — Buckingham was all
these, but never treacherous. To his country he was an
industrious, if consistently unsuccessful servant, and to his
King a most devoted friend.

Eliot’s reference to Sejanus in the closing sentences of
his speech had been, to say the least, unfortunate. Charles,
burning with indignation at this bitter attack upon the
minister in whose innocence he had the most perfect faith,

244

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

declared bitterly ‘If the Duke is Sejanus then I must be
Tiberius’. 1 To the Lords he stated that he himself would
give evidence which would clear Buckingham of each of the
charges so maliciously brought against him. ‘He that
toucheth any of you,’ he informed the Peers, ‘toucheth me
in very great measure. I have thought fit to take order for
the punishment of some insolent speeches lately spoken. I
have been too remiss before’. 2 He declared that he would
silence the whole affair, now and for ever, had not Bucking¬
ham desired him to allow the trial to continue, that he
might prove his innocence.

Whilst the King was speaking in the House of Lords a
tremendous commotion was taking place in the Commons.
When the members had taken up their places, it was noted
that two of their number —Eliot and Digges — were
absent. Investigations revealed that they had been sent
to the Tower, and as soon as this was made known to the
House, there were loud cries of ‘Rise, Rise, Rise’, which
Pym, ‘not well understanding’ 2 tried to quell. The
assembly broke up in much discontent, and there were
speculations as to whether it would sit again were the two
members not released.

The Lords had petitioned the King that the Duke should
be kept under restraint until this business was ended, but
far from agreeing to that, Charles allowed his friend to
accompany him to the House on that Thursday morning
when he went to address the Peers. The friendship between
them seemed to have been strengthened by the recent
events, and few there were who dared have attempted to
foretell what the future might hold. The nation was
grievously disturbed and trembled upon the verge of
disaster. ‘Lord help us,’ wrote a contemporary, ‘what will

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles I, i, p. ioi.

* Rushworth, Historical Collections , i, p. 357 -

8 Ellis, Original Letters , Series i, vol. in, p. 227.

245

BUCKINGHAM

come of these things? The distraction is great, and of great
consequence and, unless God show us the way out we are
but in ill case. Domine miserere /’ 1 In the midst of all this
parliamentary tumult the news had arrived that Mansfeld’s
army had been completely annihilated by a force of 30,000
strong under the dreaded Wallenstein. The whole
Protestant cause on the Continent seemed lost.

In the meantime, Charles had informed the Commons
that he would make them know he was their King, and
with this cryptic utterance left them, accompanied by the
Duke. ‘It is generally thought that the last Parliament of
King Charles his reign will end this week,’ says aeon-
temporary. ‘Is it not time to pray?’*

Heedless of their danger, the Commons proceeded to
draw up a long vindication of their liberties to be presented
to Charles, and declined to engage in any further discussions
until the two members were released. Eliot and Digges
were thereupon submitted to close examination for the
words they had spoken, but the Peers themselves could find
nothing treasonable in their speeches, so that Charles was
reluctantly obliged to release them. Meanwhile, the tide
in favour of the Earl of Bristol was running strong in the
Upper House, whose members daily ranged themselves
more definitely in opposition to the King.

The fateful month of May was now drawing to its close.
It was to be marked by yet one more event of paramount
importance. On Sunday, the 28th, at about two o’clock
in the morning, Lord Suffolk, the Chancellor of Cambridge
University, died, leaving this office vacant. As soon as he
heard the news, Charles saw immediately what a unique
opportunity this afforded him of demonstrating publicly
his continued trust in Buckingham. ‘I would Buckingham
were Chancellor’, he exclaimed, and forthwith a messenger

1 Ellis, Original Letters, Senes I, vol. in, p. 227. * Ibid., p. 228.

246

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

was dispatched by the Bishop of London, intimating to the
University the King’s pleasure that they should choose the
Duke as their new Chancellor. To the High Churchmen at
this ancient seat of learning the King’s behest was a great
joy, but the Puritan element openly rebelled at the idea,
whilst the more moderate considered it, in view of the
circumstances, an indiscreet action. They objected ‘that
instead of the patronage we sought for, we should bring
fa stin g scandal and draw a general contempt and hatred
upon the University, as men of the most prostitute flattery;
that it would not be safe for us to engage ourselves in
public affairs’. 1

The Puritans chose to advance the Earl of Berkshire,
son of the late Chancellor, to rival Buckingham, and the
resultant election in the Duke’s favour was as close as 108
votes to 103. On June 1st Charles realized his wish, and
the Duke of Buckingham was triumphantly declared
Chancellor of Cambridge University.

The Commons were furious at this open flaunting of their
recent petition against the advancement of the Duke to
so many high offices. They openly expostulated with the
University, declaring that it had committed an act of
rebellion, and even went so far as to send letters com¬
manding certain professors to come up to London and
answer for their conduct. But at this point Charles inter¬
vened, and commanded them not to stir in this business of
the University, which belonged not to them, but to himself.

Buckingham sent the University a most gracious letter,
appreciating the great honour they had done him, which
had satisfied an ambition he had long entertained to be
well thought of by men of learning. He was also ‘as
apprehensive of the time they had shown their affections in,
as of the honour they had done him’. To return their

1 Ellis, Original Letters, Series I, vol. in, p., 229.

247

BUCKINGHAM

loyalty he only hoped they would be able to suggest some
way which should ‘make posterity remember you had a
thankful Chancellor and one that really loved you and your
University’. 1

On June 8th Buckingham laid before the House of Lords
his answer to the charges preferred against him. This
defence displays evidence of a remarkably careful prepara¬
tion, and the Duke was able to show that in all his actions
he had been supported either by the past or the present
King. The lavish grants which James had forced upon him
reflected as much upon the donor as the receiver. In the
questionable proceedings respecting the surrender of the
Vanguard and the other ships to France, or the seizure arid
retention of the St. Peter, Buckingham was able to show that
he had merely obeyed orders. James had laboured for the
grant from the East India Company much more diligently
than Buckingham, and the Duke could produce the King’s
own letters to prove this. The charge of poisoning was so
absurd that he saw in it nothing which would not even assist
his cause by proving that his accusers were actuated by
personal animosity. His self-confidence was in no whit
abated by what had just passed: ‘Who accuses me?’ he
proudly demanded of the Peers. ‘Common Fame. Who
gave me to your Lordships? The House of Commons. The
one is too subtle a body, if a body: the other too great for
me to contest with. Yet I am confident neither the one nor
the other shall be found my enemy when my cause comes to
be tried.’*

But his words made little impression upon the Commons
who proceeded to debate stormily upon the recent events.
For a whole day they continued to sit without a break,
arguing as to whether they should draw up a Remonstrance
against Buckingham to be presented to the King, before

1 Cabala, p. L19. * Lords’ Journals, ill, p. 66a.

S48

A BILL OF IMPEACHMENT

there could be any question of a vote of supplies. A few
members were in favour of sweetening the pill by a pre¬
liminary grant of money, but, knowing Charles, the
majority decided in favour of taking a firm stand. On
June 13th the King was requested to remove his obnoxious
minis ter from his Council — ‘For we protest before your
Majesty and the whole world that until this great person be
removed from intermeddling with the great affairs of state,
we are out of hope of any good success: and do fear that
any money we shall or can give, will, through his mis-
employment, be turned rather to the hurt and prejudice
of this your Kingdom than otherwise, as by lamentable
experience we have found in those supplies formerly and
lately given.’ 1

Charles’s mind was quickly made up. He would not
abandon his minister, who had never acted without his
sanction, to this rebellious assembly. Through Bucking¬
ham the Crown itself was threatened, and so to save his
friend —and, incidentally, himself—Charles declared on
Thursday, June 15th, that this Parliament was dissolved.
The impeachment was automatically stopped, and to clear
the Duke’s name it was decided to proceed nominally with
the charges before the Star Chamber. That night the Earl
of Bristol was conveyed to the Tower, and it was generally
apprehended that a few other bold spirits might follow
him there.

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections , i, p. 405 .

CHAPTER XII

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

With Parliament dissolved in an angry mood, with no
subsidies granted or likely to be granted, Charles and
Buckingham might well have pondered very carefully over
the difficult situation which confronted them. Even as
sanguine a nature as the Duke’s must have realized the
utter hopelessness of the position in which the English
Government now found itself. Abroad, it was the by-word
of Europe, for Charles’s uncle, Christian of Denmark, had
engaged himself in a war, trusting to the English promise
of assistance, and now found himself utterly abandoned.
True, Charles pleaded that this was not his fault — where
could he raise the money which he had promised through '
Buckingham, at the Hague? Vainly he offered his jewels:
no merchant could be induced to buy them, despite their ,
undoubted value. Meanwhile, Christian’s army was being
subjected to sharp reverses from Tilly’s forces, whilst the
men commanded by Mansfeld and Bethlen Gabor had a
much worse foe in Wallenstein, whose well-trained armies
were beginning to sweep all before them. The Protestant
cause on the Continent seemed doomed, and it was natural
that Charles should be blamed, although his failure to send
money was only a small part of the real reasons for the
present disasters.

At home, the story of the next few months is one of endless
attempts to raise money without the aid of Parliament. If
Charles had ever thought- of the recent Parliament as a
small faction opposed to the general feeling of the nation,

350

THE BREACH WltH FRANCE

he was to be quickly undeceived. There was no loyal
flocking to the royal banner upon his appeal for free gifts,
but rather on all sides a deep distrust of the King’s inten¬
tions. Commissions under the Privy Seal could, of course, be
issued to enforce subsidies, but these had hitherto met with
little success. Both Charles and Buckingham began to
practise rigid economy in their private expenditure. The
Royal Household was informed that from July 7th, 1626,
all tables at court were to be put down and die courtiers
placed on board wages. The King also proposed to save
-£60,000 a year by revoking certain pensions he had granted
in better times. Yet it was all in vain; never had he been so
short of money, and never had he needed it so badly.

Sailors from the recent expeditions, who had not been
paid, actually came up to London on August 17th, and
clamoured around the Duke’s coach, threatening his person
unless they received their wages. Buckingham, promising
them an interview in the afternoon, managed to evade
them by escaping in a boat along the Thames on this
occasion, but it was only a temporary shelving of the issue.
Again and again were these bodies of mutinous sailors to
be seen roaming the streets of the capital, searching for the
naval headquarters or the Duke’s residence. At the be¬
ginning of December a company of three hundred sailors
battered open the door of Sir William Russell, the Treasurer
of the Navy, and refused to disperse until beaten back by
pikes and muskets.

Distress in the army and navy had led to insolence in
the ranks. Peaceful citizens were daily subjected to alarm
from the bodies of soldiers who wandered about the country
side, whilst many vagabonds, in the name of soldiers, com¬
mitted outrages and thefts. The only remedy was martial
law, and a provost-marshal was appointed in every shire.
But the people regarded martial law with almost greater

251

BUCKINGHAM

alarm than the rape and pillage of the undisciplined soldiers.

To a dispassionate observer it must appear that things
had come to such a pass as to render only one sensible
course of action open to Charles. He had far better desert
his allies in Europe altogether than lead them to disaster
by raising false hopes of support which he could not possibly
satisfy. At this point he should have withdrawn England
from the foreign war, dismissed the useless mariners and
soldiers who were rapidly constituting themselves a menace
to the peace of the realm, and with the help of an able
council devoted himself to internal reforms. Unfortunately,
neither Charles nor Buckingham had the capacity of recog¬
nizing the point at which they were virtually beaten.
Buckingham was always confident that the tide would
turn in his favour at the critical moment, and so pursued
his schemes gaily, whilst Charles cared little whether it
turned or not, once his mind was made up. He had by now
settled down to the fixed idea that he was right and his
opponents wrong, and that his cause, in the divine nature
of things, was bound to be ultimately triumphant.

So, with a shockingly mismanaged war with Spain
already to his account, Charles now proceeded to allow his
personal animosity to drag the nation into a war with
France, which might with skilful diplomacy have been
averted. Richelieu had no desire for a quarrel with Eng¬
land, but he was, after all, a Frenchman and a Roman
Catholic, and Charles’s repeated attempts to interfere in
national affairs on behalf of the Huguenots succeeded in
the end in alienating him. His master was already enraged
with the English King for private reasons, and it seemed
a hopeless task to pour oil on these troubled waters.
But on September 27th, 1626, the courtly and diplomatic
Frenchman, Bassompierre, arrived in London to essay this
very task.

252

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

The position with which he had to deal was by no means
promising. Two months ago the King’s anger with his
wife had burst its bounds. On Monday, the last day of July,
Charles had entered his wife’s apartments at about three
o’clock in the afternoon, and was much annoyed to find a
hilarious scene proceeding, the Queen laughing and her
French attendants ‘dancing and curvetting’ in her presence.
Charles’s annoyance sprang, not from any inherent objec¬
tion to frivolity, but from the fact that, when in his com¬
pany, Henrietta Maria persisted in maintaining a sullen
and injured air of martyrdom. So he took her by the hand,
and led her to his own room, locking the door after him to
shut out her French followers. Later Conway was ordered
to inform the members of the Queen’s household that they
were required to leave the Kingdom. They protested
vigorously, the women howling and lamenting ‘as if they
had been going to execution’. The apartments were
cleared by the calling in of the Yeomen of the Guard.
When the Queen heard of what had happened ‘she grew
very impatient and brake the glass windows with her fist’.
Apparently Charles managed to appease her rage, and later
she accompanied him to Nonesuch where, we are told, they
were ‘very jocund together’. 1

Meanwhile, the French courtiers refused to leave Somer¬
set House, and as soon as he heard of this Charles’s fury
was so great that he seized his pen and dashed off a most
strongly worded letter to Buckingham. ‘I command you,’
he wrote, ‘to send all the French away to-morrow out of
the town. If ye can, by fair means, otherwise force them
away, driving them away like so many wild beasts until ye
have shipped them, and so the devil go with them.’ 1
Although Charles had certainly had much to endure from
his wife’s French attendants for more than a year past,

1 Ellis, Original Letters, Series I, vol. in, p. * 37 - 1 Ibi<L P- * 44 -

253

BUCKINGHAM

this was an arbitrary action to which he had been driven
The story which the expelled courtiers would have to tell
would certainly do much to foment the indignation of the
French King.

None the less, the sound counsel which Marshal Bassom-
pierre now proceeded to give Henrietta Maria could have
done much to bridge the breach which seemed to be impend¬
ing. He advised the Queen to do her best to conform with
English ways and to receive the English courtiers cheer¬
fully, since to remain a stranger in a strange land was to
court unhappiness. Whilst he could see Charles’s point of
view with regard to the trouble fomented between
him and his wife by the French attendants, he did not
hesitate to inform the King that their dismissal was, in
effect, a violation of the marriage contract. He suggested a
compromise in the matter; that the Queen should retain a
few French servants, but that the bulk of her household
should be English.

With regard to the disputes over the ships, Bassompierre
was ready to agree to some treaty, whereby the whole
quarrel could be settled to the mutual satisfaction of both
nations. It was not his fault that events were to take place
which alienated all parties and rendered such a compromise
impossible.

So far had the French Ambassador gained the confidence
of Charles and his friend, that on November 5th we find
Buckingham giving one of his famous entertainments at
York House in his honour. A masque performed on this
occasion was made the medium of conveying renewed
hopes of perfect amity between the two crowns. Mary de
Medici was shown, enthroned, in the midst of several
deities, upon the sea dividing England and France, wel¬
coming Frederick and Elizabeth of the Palatinate, together
with her three daughters and their respective spouses —

254

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

Charles I of England, Philip IV of Spain, and the Prince of
Piedmont.

It was a magnificent vision, and all Buckingham’s old
self assurance began to come back to liim as he discussed
future plans with the French Ambassador. Money had
again begun to pour into the royal coffers, for so far there
had been little resistance to that brilliant scheme which
had been suggested to Charles of raising money by means
of a forced loan. The shires around London had, for the
most part, paid up without much trouble, and as the Com¬
missioners were dispatched to the more distant counties
Charles’s prospects seemed rosy.

It had been intended to send Goring to France as am¬
bassador, but in view of the renewed prospects of amity,
Buckingham felt that he himself was the only person in
England to whom such a delicate piece of diplomacy might
be entrusted. This in spite of the unpopularity his quick
temper and amorous diversion with Anne of Austria had
won him during his last visit. Of course, there were not
wanting those who hinted that his desire to re-visit France
was influenced by a longing to see Anne once more, but
this is very doubtful. The affair with that lady does not
seem to have gone very deep, and was most probably by
now merely a pleasant — or unpleasant — memory to the
Duke.

Bassompierre doubted whether the impetuous young
Englishman would be very welcome at the French court,
whilst it is said that Buckingham’s wife, sister and mother
all besought him upon their knees not to hazard his person
in such a dangerous venture. A large section of Frenchmen
blamed the Duke for the estrangement which had grown
up between Charles and his wife, affirming that Bucking¬
ham was afraid that the Queen might usurp his place in
the Kin g ’s affections. There may have been a certain

255

BUCKINGHAM

amount of truth in this, for the relations between Bucking,
ham and the Queen had, on more than one occasion, been
decidedly strained. It is said that when, on her first arrival
in England, Henrietta Maria had refused to have his wife
and sister as her personal attendants, the Duke — usually
the essence of courtesy towards the ladies — so far forgot
himself as to threaten the Queen, haughtily reminding her
that English Queens had lost their heads before to-day.
He sent a messenger to the French Ambassadors to protest
against the exclusion of his relatives from the Queen’s
retinue, and apparently this servant displayed such inso¬
lence that the Ambassadors threatened to throw him out of
the window. Indeed, it seemed to an independent observer
at the English Court, that Charles and Buckingham ‘were
doing everything to tire out the French and induce them
to go ’. 1 On the other hand, Buckingham may have been
sincere when he declared wearily to the Venetian Ambassa¬
dor that these quarrels with the Queen were not of his
seeking, but that he was being forced into his present line
of action by Charles, whose anger with the French grew
daily stronger. The Duke could even find it in his heart to
praise Henrietta Maria, whose gay and carefree disposition,
so like his own, must — in other circumstances — have
attracted him strongly.

But there were few at the French Court who would have
given him the benefit of the doubt, whilst the story was
rapidly spreading abroad that, should he finally decide to
visit France, his position might be dangerous enough, in
view of a ‘mysterious secret jealousy’* which the French
King bore towards him. The reason was not far to seek.
At any rate, what would have happened had Buckingham
gone to France at this point will never be known, for

*Pesaro to the Doge, July 31st, 1625, Cal. S. P. Ven. (1623-85), p. i*9-
Pesaro to the Doge, Nov. aist, 1625, Ibid. (1623-25), p. 221.

256

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

events took a turn which rendered a diplomatic embassy,
to say the least, superfluous.

The seizure of English ships by the French, as a measure
of reprisal, had gone on steadily throughout the recent
discussions. English vessels had been taken at Rouen and
La Rochelle. The final death blow to all hopes of a
reconciliation was dealt by the Due d’Epemon, one of the
leading French nobles, who hated Richelieu and his
negotiations, and saw his opportunity to create a final
breach between him and Charles. A fleet of two hundred
English and Scottish vessels, carrying a whole year’s supply
of wine, was sailing from Bordeaux, and, waiting until the
duty had been paid, he proceeded to seize the lot — thereby
acquiring money, wine and ships. The price of wine
immediately soared in England, the whole wine drinking
community was violently irritated, and December 3rd saw
the issue of an Order in Council for the seizure of all French
ships and goods in English waters.

Although he was wavering in his desire for the French
alliance, and had plainly told Contarini that ‘by their
hostile acts the French demanded war rather than negotia¬
tion’, 1 Buckingham could not yet abandon the idea of a
personal visit to France, hoping to bridge the impending
gulf. So one night in mid-December, the Duke departed
for Canterbury, where he was to meet Bassompierre, whom
he had recalled from Dover in view of the present crisis.
As he left London the crowd recognized him, and it was
‘with curses and horrible deprecations’ wishing him to
‘begone for ever’* ringing in his ears that he made his way
to the Cathedral city. Bassompierre, with his usual tact,
managed to restrain the Duke’s impatience to visit France,
knowing well enough that his advent at that Court would
be more than unwelcome.

1 Contarini to the Doge, Dec. i8th, 1626, Cal. S. P, Veit- (1626-28), p. 59. * Ibid.

a 257

BUCKINGHAM

The fitful ray of sunshine which had begun to peep
through the clouds of the King’s troubles was destined to be
short lived. The forced loan was suddenly declared by th e
judges to be without any legal sanction, and in spite of
Charles’s instant dismissal of the Chief Justice, Sir Randal
Crew, and the appointment of Sir Nicholas Hyde, one of
Buckingham’s creatures, to the vacancy, the example set
by the legal fraternity had its effect upon the nation.

Of course, for the most part, those possessed of no heroic
spirit preferred to pay up rather than face the dreadful
punishments which so frequently attended nonpayment.
It was no light matter to be tom from a peaceful agri¬
cultural life and sent off to take part in the gruesome battle
on the Continent. Nor was it pleasant to be confined per¬
haps in some distant country miles away from one’s own
people. None the less, there were a few valiant spirits who
asserted the liberties of Englishmen by refusing to pay
money for which there was no legal ground of claim.
Generally the men who so refused occupied positions of
importance. On some occasions the Commissioners for the
Loan themselves declined to pay, whilst a large number of
the peers proved recalcitrant. Strong opposition, as may
be imagined, was given by such men as Wentworth, Eliot,
Pym, and Hampden who, in addition to their objections
to lending money so illegally claimed, had forceful views
upon the purposes for which it was to be employed. Before
the end of June, 1627, Sir Thomas Wentworth had been
summoned before the Council for his refusal to pay the
loan, and banished to Kent — far from his ancestral seat of
Wentworth-Woodhouse in Yorkshire. The growing body
of discontent was assuming alarming proportions, and it
was an increasing anxiety to the King to know what to do.
He did not wish to provoke further opposition by unduly
harsh measures, and yet to accept payment from the weak

258

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

and let the strong go scot-free was a confession of weakness
he well knew to be fatal. So the story goes on throughout
these early months of 1627 with weary regularity. Squire
after squire is hauled before the Council for his refusal to
pay, and either banished to some remote county or sent to
serve in the foreign wars. But Englishmen were fighting
for their liberties, and punishment was no deterrent.

The March of 1627 saw money again pouring into the
King’s coffers — but not from his loyal subjects! Penning¬
ton, who seems to have been another Drake, had made a
magnificent attack upon the French shipping between
Calais and Bordeaux. He had swept the Channel trium¬
phantly, bringing home with him enough money from the
capture of French prizes to pay the way for a while, at any
rate.

Money was urgently needed, for open war with France
could now no longer be averted. In January the mutual
umbrage and distrust between the two nations had caused
the breakdown of all Bassompierre’s diplomacy. Louis had
demanded nothing short of the fulfilment of the actual
marriage contract, whilst with regard to the prize ships he
awaited Engl an d’s action first. Richelieu, it appears,
wished at this point to enter into negotiations with Bucking¬
ham, and if possible to prevent war. But Louis was quite
adamant in his refusal to entertain the Duke in Paris, and
the proposed rapprochement was prevented. Instead,
Buckingham had to convey to Richelieu the English King’s
terms, which were tantamount to a declaration of war —
‘Je trouve que le roi mon maitre ne croit pas 6tre main-
tenant oblige a 1’observation des deux traites, en ce qui
touche les affaires de la maison de la reine ma maitresse. 1
In addition to this refutation of the terms of the marriage
contract respecting the Qjieen’s household, the Duke was

1 Cbowe, History of France, hi, p. sji.

259

BUCKINGHAM

also directed to say that in the matter of the ships France
having been the aggressor, must take the first steps towards
a pacification. Naturally, a proud government could not
brook such a reply and all hopes of a reconciliation were at
an end.

In such a situation the success of Pennington’s pre¬
liminary piratic exploit was miraculous. It put new life
into the King’s drooping spirits and money into his pocket.
Gaily Charles and Buckingham proceeded to expend these
funds on warlike preparations. How long the money would
last they hardly seem to have calculated. Perhaps they
hoped for repetitions of Pennington’s success to smooth the
path for the future. And for the present, at any rate, it was
enough that the men were paid, provisions provided, and
goodly ships rigged out for a grand naval attack upon the
growing power of France.

The one thought which seems to have troubled Bucking¬
ham was that Spain might lend her fleet to the assistance
of the French, and by now he had learnt enough to know
the dangers of having to fight both these powers at once.
In an effort to make peace with Spain, Balthazar Gerbier,
a painter and connoisseur was dispatched to Paris to meet
Rubens, ostensibly to collect pictures for the Duke, but in
reality to discuss with that artist, who had himself suggested
the idea to Buckingham two years earlier, the prospects of
a cessation of hostilities with Spain. The Spaniards, willing
to treat separately with England, firmly refused to include
Holland and Denmark in the agreement, and so the
negotiations fell through. Charles would not desert his
allies, and the expedition against France must sail with
the prospects of Spanish attacks an uncertain quantity.

In itself the expedition upon which Buckingham now
planned to embark had several good points. He had
dearly recognized that naval supremacy was to be of para-

866

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

mount importance to England as time advanced. To this
end, Richelieu’s ambitions of strengthening the French
navy must be strangled at birth. Well directed, the exploit
could have done much to strengthen England’s position
abroad. Furthermore, there was something humane in the
desire of Charles and Buckingham to assist the Huguenots
in their desperate struggle against the Roman Catholics.
Of course, it had its roots in their wish to distract Louis,
but nevertheless they must have been unconsciously stirred
by the fervent enthusiasm many noble Englishmen were
feeling for the defence of the Protestant cause. It was a
praiseworthy object, no doubt, but one which called for
the greatest skill in its achievement. Failure would only
make the unfortunate lot of those they set out to assist
infinitely worse. To engage them in a death struggle with
their King were dangerous enough unless Buckingham was
certain of his ability to see them through. And, knowing
as he did the turbulent state of affairs at home, the empti¬
ness of the exchequer, the condition of the army and navy,
could Buckingham have felt reasonably sure of this ability?
For him this expedition was a desperate throw of the dice,
and he must have recognized it as such in his inner heart.
But if such thoughts ever came to the surface he evidently
choked them at birth. His dispatches display nothing but
the most cheery optimism, which seems to have been shared
by none but his royal master.

The four grand objects of the expedition are clearly set
out in the instructions issued to Buckingham on June 19th,
1627. The Lord Admiral was to go in person in command
so that there should be no repetition of the Cadiz disaster.
The seas were to be swept of all French and Spanish vessels
which might be wandering around, hoping to attack
English commerce. This being done, certain regiments were
to be taken to La Rochelle to aid the Huguenots, not in any

261

BUCKINGHAM

rebellion against their King, but to assist them in the siege
upon them which the English government knew was shortly
to be commenced. Buckingham was to ask the Rochellese if
they desired such assistance. If they answered in the nega¬
tive, the soldiers were to be sent back to England, if in the
affirmative, the English regiments were to be handed over
to the command of Marshal Soubise. Buckingham, having
completed these negotiations, must now proceed to recover
the English ships detained at Bordeaux, after which a few
vessels might be dispatched to the West Indies in search of
Spanish treasure ships. The main business of the expedition
seems, in this sea of instructions, to sink beneath the
enormous task of securing the supremacy of England on
the high seas.

For the present, the destination of the expedition was to
be kept a complete secret. Buckingham realized the
tactical importance of keeping the enemy in the dark, and
to this end he communicated his designs to none but
his private councillors. But it was well known that vigorous
preparations were in process for some sort of an exploit, and
naturally there were surmises on all hands as to its target.
Ever since May the raising of soldiers by the rough methods
of the press gang had been going on. On May ist Sir
George Blundell had to report to the Duke that two hun¬
dred of the pressed men who had arrived at Dover were
‘such base rogues’ 1 that he had sent one hundred and
twenty of them back again. For the support of the rest,
who had arrived from various counties, he had no money,
and had been obliged to borrow upon his own credit. On
all sides, the attempts to impress men to serve in the ex¬
pedition were met by pleas of poverty, or dearth of able-
bodied men, whilst the soldiers, once pressed, mutinied or
ran away upon every possible occasion. On June 3rd Sir

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 159.

36s

THE BREACH WITH FRANCE

John Burgh, the Duke’s second-in-command, advised his
master that he must see to the fitting out of supplies of
shirts, shoes and stockings, and the provision of adequate
numbers of arms. Moreover, so mutinous were the men
generally that he feared commissions of martial law might
be necessary to enforce order. This was discouraging
material with which to start a great venture.

Already on May 16th, the Duke had given a magnificent
farewell supper at York House, where both the King and
Queen were present. A masque performed on this occasion
was highly topical, though scarcely discreet. First the Duke
came upon the stage, and following him were several
open-mouthed dogs’ heads, representing the barking of the
people. Then came a character representing Envy, after
which Truth triumphantly wound up the procession.

It was in a cheerful mood that Charles came to Ports¬
mouth on June nth to view the fleet. He boarded and
inspected several vessels, afterwards going on board the
Lord Admiral’s ship — prematurely named the Triumph —
where he dined, and spoke very merrily of the prospects of
the expedition. The Duke followed him later, confidently
telling his retinue what he would do to retrieve the bitter¬
ness of the loss at Cadiz. The general opinion was that he
must needs do well, or the consequences none could fore¬
tell: ‘The choicest and wellnigh all the most sufficient men
for command in the kingdom, as well as the most skilful at
sea, are to be employed in this service, so that if it should
miscarry, many are afraid the loss will be almost irrecover¬
able.’ 1 Before the departure the Duke addressed his men
personally, in as loud a voice as he could, telling them to
be of good courage, and that each soldier would have ample
opportunity of displaying his prowess in battle. In every
charge he promised that he himself would be the first into

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles I, i, p. 223.

263

BUCKINGHAM

danger. He could promise them much, but nothing that
was to be gained without the shedding of blood. It was a
gallant speech, from one who was soon to prove himself a
gallant soldier.

At four o’clock on the morning of Wednesday, June 27th,
one hundred vessels spread their white canvas to the winds,
carrying to the aid of the French Protestants 6000 foot
soldiers and 100 horse, many of them the flower of the
English nobility. Their spirits were reused by the apparent
cowardice the enemy displayed; not a French nor a
Spanish vessel left its harbour to cross their path, and this
glorious English Armada, led by Buckingham in the
Triumph , made a superb progress to La Rochelle without a
sight of the enemy. At home a poetaster of the day declared
that this demonstrated the naval superiority of Charles
over Edward III or even Elizabeth, and Neptune was
made to say:

‘I saw third Edward stain my flood
By Sluys with slaughtered Frenchmen’s blood:

And from Eliza’s fleet
I saw the vanquished Spaniards fly.

But ’twas a greater mastery,

No foe at all to meet;

When they, without their ruin or dispute,

Confess thy reign as sweet as absolute.’ 1

1 Gardiner, vi, p. 171 f.

CHAPTER XIII

ON THE ISLE OF RHE 1

Off the western coast of France, guarding the entrance to
the harbour of La Rochelle, stands the small island of Rh6.
Recognizing its importance as a natural defence, the
French had garrisoned the island strongly at two points —
La Pree and St. Martin’s. The latter fortification had only
recently been erected, and offered a formidable resistance
to the invader. These, together with the strongly guarded
Fort Louis on the mainland, constituted a perfect defence
for the town of La Rochelle, and the invader had no easy
task.

On July ioth the Dutch captain, Cornelius Petersen,
had just loaded his ship the White Fortune with a rich
cargo of the salt in which the island abounded, when he
perceived a number of tall ships nearing the coast. The
evening was well advanced, but he could see that one of
the ships showed the colours of His Majesty of Great
Britain — the white flag and St. Andrew’s Cross—in the
main tops. It was the first detachment of the English fleet,
led by the Lord Admiral’s vessel, which now proceeded to
cast anchor in the waters surrounding the island, as near as
possible to the two fortified points of La Pree and St.
Martin’s. Next day, as the rest of the vessels came up,
Buckingham gathered them into position, whilst pre¬
liminary efforts were made to assault La Pr6e. On July
12 th, the fleet being collected, Buckingham held his first
council of war, and it was decided that Sir William Becher

1 1 have adopted the old spelling. The modem form — R6 — was at this time just
be ginning to creep into use, and is occasionally encountered in the documents.

265

BUCKINGHAM

and Marshal Soubise should go to Rochelle to discover the
attitude of the inhabitants towards the proposed assistance.

Meanwhile, Buckingham decided to land his men upon
the island, although the original design clearly intended
that no proceedings should be taken until it were dis¬
covered whether the Rochellese were prepared to lend a
friendly hand. But no doubt he .appreciated to the full
the tremendous value which the Isle of Rhe would be to
the English Government could he manage to capture it.
It was very rich in salt and wines, it would form a perfect
base for piratical descents upon French and Spanish
shipping, whilst from the island constant trouble could be
fomented with the neighbouring Huguenots to distract the
French Government. But, as he was to find to his sorrow,
its fortresses were almost invincible to attack, whilst the
stony nature of the soil rendered the making of effective
earthworks practically impossible.

Obstacles like these did not daunt Buckingham, who now
found himself cast in a role which threw to the fore un¬
suspected qualitites in his nature. He was an extremely
gallant soldier, displaying tremendous personal bravery,
and during the very first day his spirit and intelligence
became manifest to all. He endeavoured from the start to
glean all the information that he could, and went about
amongst his troops trying to infuse into them some of his
own vigorous enthusiasm. The landing upon the island
soon revealed of what poor stuff many of his men were
made. On the order to advance, some of them took up
their required positions, but several of the more half¬
hearted pressed men, who had no stomach for a fight,
pretended not to hear the command and remained on
board their ships. Others, even on reaching the water’s
edge, miserably refused to set foot on shore. The Duke
himself was forced to go amongst these cowardly wretches,

266

ON THE ISLE OF RHE

with drawn sword, forcing them ashore, and then had to
go back in person to the ships to fetch those who preferred
the safety of their vessels to the dangers of warfare. It was
an inauspicious beginning.

Taking advantage of their confusion, Toiras, the
Governor of St. Martin’s, who had occupied a position to
prevent the landing, dispatched a troop of French cavalry
to scatter them before they could draw themselves up into
battle-line. The confusion which succeeded was deplor¬
able, and many a brave English officer lost his life in the
mad skirmish. As soon as he perceived what was taking
place, Buckingham rushed back to the place of danger,
and at great personal risk managed to form his men into
some sort of a line. The French cavalry, outnumbered,
withdrew, leaving large numbers of their men, many of
them scions of the nobility, upon the field of battle.

The En glish force now commenced the march to St.
Martin’s, without taking the smaller fort of La Pree, for
Buckingham feared that should they waste time assaulting
this latter point, the main fort would then be forewarned
and so strongly garrisoned that an attack would be hope¬
less. The Duke now proved that he was no mere drawing¬
room cavalier, but could endure the rigours of a long day’s
march as well as the most hardened veteran. From the
beginning he tended his men with that concern which
alone can bring success. He was no Mansfeld. It is said
that on one occasion he even risked his life to save a poor
soldier who was threatened by the rising tide. He allowed
none of the usual horrors of mercenary warfare to take
place in his troops. The bodies of his enemies he refused
to sell for ransom money, but allowed them decent burial
by their friends. For the wounded Frenchmen he cared to
the best of his ability. Pillaging was prohibited, his men
were forbidden to enter the villages, and hardiness was

267

BUCKINGHAM

encouraged. The Duke shared the lot of the common
soldier, went amongst them with a smile and a greeting
and at night slept in the open fields to set them an example*
We are irresistibly reminded of Shakespeare’s hero:

For forth he goes and visits all his host,

Bids them good morrow with a modest smile.

And calls them brothers, friends and countrymen

That every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks,

A largess universal like the sun
His liberal eye doth give to everyone,

Thawing cold fear. 1

All his men combined in praising the personal demeanour
of their leader, and, had he possessed the necessary ex¬
perience and good fortune, this expedition might easily
have given to Buckingham that hero worship from the nation
which he so ardently craved. But in military tactics he
could not be other than a novice, this being his first en¬
gagement, whilst, despite his courage, his luck seemed
always to be against him. For once, Fortune deserted her
favourite. The necessary support, from one cause or an¬
other, never reached him at the critical moment.

That the expedition had been built upon shifting sands
was soon to be revealed. The political intrigues which
Buckingham had directed to be carried out in France did
not bear their expected fruit. Becher and Soubise from the
mainland soon reported that the Rochellese were very half¬
hearted in supporting their champion. A small handful of
men was offered, but they firmly declined to do anything
further without counsel.

This desertion was a sharp reverse, but Buckingham did

1 King Stray V, Act IV, Prologue.

268

ON THE ISLE OF RHfe

not feel that it was necessary to withdraw, as he was in¬
structed to do in his orders. The citadel of St. Martin’s
was a tempting sight; he decided to take it, if force did not
succeed, by famine. So the troops remained on the island,
and the guns were landed and placed ready to storm the
fortress. Buckingham quickly grasped the salient features
of the situation. It was soon apparent that any attempt
to storm the citadel must fail. ‘This is a place of great
strength,’ he wrote to Conway, ‘invincible if once per¬
fected, and in this imperfect state of fortification it now
stands in, so strong that the shortest way to take it is by
famine. The ground it stands on is rocky, and of such a
continued and hard kind of rock as the pick-axe will hardly
fasten in it, which takes off all possibility of making mines,
had we better engineers than we have in the army.’ 1 His
plan was now to barricade all avenues whereby succour
might be sent to St. Martin’s both by land and sea. To
this end, four or five ships, well armed, watched by night
close to the citadel, whilst the rest of the fleet kept guard
in the waters surrounding the island. Also he intended to
construct trenches around the citadel and so cut off all
supplies from landwards. A troop of cavalry, under Lord
Montjoy, was directed to beat up and down the island to
cut off all straggling forces of the enemy. On July 27th he
managed to capture thirty musketeers and some horses,
sent out by the French to fetch water.

Buckingham did not underestimate the strength of his
opponents. Their infantry and cavalry were well tried
companies, they had great stores of provisions and ammuni¬
tion, and a governor who would prefer death to the dis¬
honour of surrender. Meanwhile, he had certain intelligence
that the French Government was preparing expeditions for
the relief of the citadel at Bordeaux, Brouage, Blavett, St.

* Hakdwickb, State Papers, n, p.

869

BUCKINGHAM

Malo and other places. These, if they arrived, would con¬
siderably divert the English forces. The Duke realized that
it was going to be a long siege, and earnestly begged Con¬
way to send reinforcements. Their need of amm unition
he declared, was most pressing and they lacked any good
engineers. Additional troops, he hoped, would be already
on their way, for he was in urgent need of succour.

Buckingham saw clearly that the assistance of the Hugue¬
nots would depend to a large extent upon his success. At
present, whilst full of pious thanks for his assistance, they
committed themselves in no direction, but, he told Conway,
‘The main point of union, as I conceive, depends upon the
success of this enterprise, which being once at an end a
strong party will come in of itself, which is one of the many
commodities that would be gained by this conquest.’ 1

If personal effort could have brought him success in the
siege, the citadel would have been his. His men were
amazed at his infinite care, undaunted courage, patience
and arduous effort in all the preparations. Even the enemy
praised his affability, courage and generosity. He did not
stay behind the lines, but went personally to view the pro¬
ceedings at great risk. ‘Himself views the ground’, writes
the Huguenot soldier, Henri de Vic, ‘goes to the trenches,
visits the batteries, observes where the shot doth light, and
what effects it works upon the enemy: in a word, goes himself
to places of the greatest danger, oftener than becomes a
person of his rank.’* Apparently, though some of his
officers worked well with him, a certain section did not
give him that ready co-operation which is one of the main
conditions of success. This would naturally make the Duke
more anxious to see personally that everything was done,
and so in addition to the main responsibility of the expedi¬
tion he found himself burdened with numerous petty

1 Hardwicke, State Papers, u, p. 30. * Ibid., n, p. 24*

270

ON THE ISLE OF RHfe

details which might easily have been delegated to trust¬
worthy subordinates.

Already the besiegers were suffering from lack of supplies.
On July 20th Sir Allen Apsley wrote home from Rhe that
there was no bread and beer thought of for the soldiers.
Wine was no sustenance to the troops, and he besought the
authorities to use all possible speed in sending out supplies
of the necessary victuals for the men. Buckingham himself
wrote home to his secretary, Nicholas, to procure as much of
his own private income as he possibly could, and send it
forthwith, to be employed for reinforcing them with men
and munitions. To Conway he stated quite plainly in his
letter of August 14th that ‘without speedy supply we will
lose all that we have gained’. 1 The enemy had been
fortified by the arrival of a force of 6000 foot, 500 horse,
and 40 cannon, under Monsieur d’Angouleme, within half
a mile of La Rochelle, where he had taken up his position
to prevent the English landing. There was some talk of his
building a fort at that place, and already he had stopped
provisions from entering the town. Driven by distress, the
Rochellese had been forced to apply themselves to the
Duke — but it was to ask for succour, not to offer assistance.
He had, in addition to his own burdens, to advise them
upon their defence, and furnish them with the necessary
arms.

On the island itself, the British preparations for the siege
were completed, and Buckingham had displayed consider¬
able strategic ability in drawing up his men and ships to
the best advantage. Despite the rocky ground, he had
managed to construct trenches down to the water side, so
that the enemy could not leave the citadel by land without
having to pass the British redoubts. By sea, the ships had
been placed in the form of a half moon, with the horns

1 Hardwicke, State Papers, n, p. 39-
ayi

BUCKINGHAM

encircling the citadel and the twenty French shallops
which lay before it each night, strongly armed against a
possible attack with muskets, pikes and fireworks. A float¬
ing boom around the landing place prevented ingress or
egress from the citadel. Buckingham clearly realized that
all depended upon his preventing supplies from reaching
St. Martin’s, and had the besiegers been strengthened by
the victuals and reinforcements which the Duke had re¬
quested from home, and for which he looked anxiously
every day, success might easily have been his.

The enemy had realized his plan, and instead of massing
soldiers for an attack upon the British forces, they devoted
their attentions to devising some means of supplying the
citadel with food and provisions to enable it to hold out A
desperate crew of Angouleme’s axmy had been selected to
man some shallops which were preparing to pass on food
and ammunition to the besieged.

In the citadel itself Toiras was devoting his efforts to
entrenching himself as securely as possible within his hold
and to a desperate endeavour to deprive the British forces
of their leader, without whom he knew they would be lost.
Buckingham, writing home despairingly about the needs
of his soldiers, did not mention the enormous personal risks
to which he was daily exposed, but De Vic wrote to Con¬
way, telling him how the Duke had narrowly escaped
assassination by a French soldier: ‘Upon this day se’en-
night a fellow was taken, coming from the citadel, about
whom (being searched) was found a chain bullet, and a
litde short kind of dagger, the blade of it about five or six
inches long, very broad for that length, edged on both
sides and those very keen and a wondrous sharp point.’ 1
The unfortunate wretch confessed, when captured, that he
had been commissioned by Toiras to kill die Duke, with

1 Hardwicks, State Papers, n, p. 34.

273

ON THE ISLE OF RHfi

promise of large rewards. Open attacks were also made
from the citadel upon the British leader. De Vic reports,
‘they make every day divers shots upon his lodging, and
myself have been with his excellency when the shot hath
come through the chamber over which he was’. 1 Mean¬
while, assistance previously promised to Buckingham by
the French aristocrats, Rohan, Soissons and Savoy, seemed
likely to come to nothing. These noblemen were biding
their time, seeking the best terms before they decided on
which side to throw their weight.

During the rest of August the two forces on the island
were playing a waiting game. The British had managed to
pen in the enemy by land and sea, and knew that they were
already in want, and could hardly hold out much longer
unless reinforced. Every day deserters from the French
army were captured, and sent back again to provide extra
mouths to feed. But for the heavy rains which fell during
the beginning of September, the enemy’s main shortage —
that of water — might have driven them to surrender. As
it was, the English had constant intelligence during the
first week of this month that it was daily becoming more
impossible for those in the citadel to hold out. If Bucking¬
ham had received that support from home which he ex¬
pected, it would have been possible to enforce surrender at
this point. But by the nineteenth, news had begun to
trickle into the British lines that the French were making
strong preparations for the relief of the island, and that they
intended to unite with Spain in an attack upon the English
ships and compel them to raise the blockade. The English
officers grew increasingly despondent as they heard these
tidings and saw no signs of any reinforcements coming to
them from their King. ‘They now give themselves for men
neglected and forgotten in England’,’ Buckingham wrote

1 Hardwicke, State Papers, n, p. 34 - * Ibid > P* 45 -

S 273

BUCKINGHAM

bitterly to Conway. The Rochellese, frightened by the
rumours of the strong force gathering against them, were
now willing to treat with Buckingham, but could give him
little assistance and he, for his part, preferred to wait and
see how the fortunes of war were likely to turn out before
entering upon any new obligations.

The fears of the men that Charles had forgotten them
were groundless, for the King was making desperate efforts
to secure supplies for the troops. Apart from his difficulty
in raising the money, he found himself balked on all sides
by the most deadly inertia. To Marlborough, the Trea¬
surer, and Weston, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, he
wrote on July 17th that ‘delaying answers’ would not serve
him. On the 27th he was forced to expostulate against
their apathy — ‘I confess these delays make me impatient
even almost beyond patience.’ 1

It was becoming increasingly difficult to raise money.
Since Buckingham’s expedition had set out the French
ships had remained in their harbour, and no more funds
were to be expected from a repetition of Pennington’s
piratical raid. The forced loan produced its quota but
slowly and grudgingly. Charles even resorted to the dis¬
afforestation of large tracts of the country, hoping to gain
money from the sale of the timber.

On July 27th Becher arrived in England, dispatched
thither by Buckingham to speed up and bring back the
necessary provisions. His stories of Buckingham’s bravery,
and the tremendous personal danger he ran daily, touched
Charles to the heart. Frantically he wrote to Weston and
Marlborough, not sparing them from veiled threats: ‘If
Buckingham should fail,’ he declared angrily, ‘having so
bravely and successfully begun his expedition, it were an
irrecoverable shame to the King and the nation, and those

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, Preface, p. viii.

274

ON THE ISLE OF RH£

that hinder or do not further this action deserve to make
their end at Tyburn.’ 1 It was proposed that Becher should
return as soon as the wind were favourable, with a force of
2000 men and adequate supplies of victuals and ammuni¬
tions for Buckingham’s army. This, it was hoped, would
keep the besiegers going until a further force could be
raised which was to be sent under the Earl of Holland.
Four days later, Secretary Conway again conveyed the
King’s peremptory commands to the dilatory Chancellor
and Treasurer, ‘that order is given for the supply of victuals
for the fleet, and that moneys are delivered so that there
will be no delay in sending them away’.*

On August 14th Conway was able to inform Buckingham
that the officers and troops to be sent under Becher
were now ready, and that the King much regretted the
slackness of some of his principal officials in the dispatch of
these reinforcements. The whole Council had been sharply
reproved for the recent dilatoriness, and it was now hoped
to have the 2000 men at their rendezvous by August 30th,
or at the latest by September 10th. Buckingham had
further confirmation of these joyful tidings in a letter from
Charles by the same carrier, commending him upon his
successful action up to this point, and giving him assurance
that a supply of victuals, ammunitions, four hundred re¬
cruits and £14,000 ready money would be dispatched
under Becher in eight days. On September 10th he could
promise faithfully that another two thousand men and
more supplies should be embarked at Portsmouth.

The King wrote with more certainty than he could
possibly have felt, for it was becoming increasingly difficult
to raise the money, whilst the men so hastily impressed often
ran away before reaching their destination. On August
23rd Charles again had to write furiously to Marlborough

1 C<d. S. P. Pom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 280. * Ibid., 1627**8. P- *86.

275

BUCKINGHAM

and Weston to speed up supplies of money. Apparently
Becher, upon his arrival at Portsmouth, found neither ships
munitions, nor money to meet him as was agreed. The
King had thereupon dispatched Holland to find out what
was the cause of this further irksome delay. Meanwhile
the wind had turned, so that Becher would have to wait
for its favour again before he could set out to the assistance
of the unfortunate force at Rhe. On the 27th Conway
urged both the Council and the Treasurer to consider that
this was no ordinary matter, to be subjected to such checks
and counter-checks, and commanded them to proportion
their care to the importance of the work. The King was
troubled on all sides, so let them not add to his worries.

Two days later Becher forwarded to Charles a despairing
letter he had just received from the Duke at Rhe, wonder¬
ing why he received no succour and informing him that
provisions were growing terribly low, and the men decreas¬
ing daily. The citadel was still holding out, and he begged
Becher to be as quick as possible in bringing reinforcements
and supplies. But the unhappy Becher had to inform His
Majesty that the fleet was by no means ready, and that the
delay had already cost him the opportunity of favourable
winds and weather. The wind did not veer until September
16th and it was not until the 25th that he finally arrived at
Rhe with the long awaited reinforcements.

A force from Ireland had anticipated him, to succour
the besiegers for the time being, but the fortunes of war
were steadily going against them. On September 4th,
Captain Edward Conway informed his father, the Secretary,
that but for Buckingham’s great courage and understand¬
ing they would all have given up long ago. Dark nights
and strong, hazardous winds had worked against them to
enable the French to get provisions into the citadel, and if
this weather should continue, they would obtain more. ‘If

276

ON THE ISLE OF RHfc

we lose this island, 5 Edward told his father very plainly, ‘it
s hall be your fault in England.’ 1

Becher soon perceived that his arrival had been most
urgently required: ‘I do esteem it one of the extraordinary
blessings of God upon this action, 5 he wrote, ‘that we
arrived so opportunely, for if we had stayed longer the
whole action would have been in great hazard. 5 a He found
the men, on the whole, fairly confident that they could take
the citadel, if only they could prevent further ingress of
supplies on the foggy, stormy nights they were experiencing
of late. The soldiers were shockingly in need of clothing
and provisions. He begged the home government to send
stockings, shoes and shirts, with all possible speed, and to
encourage merchants to deliver victuals to the troops for
which they could give plenty of salt and wine in return.

The elements themselves seemed to be fighting against
Buckingham. The violent seas broke down the floating
battery he had erected to face the sea front of the fort, and
in its place he constructed a strong boom which was again
snapped by the beating of the waves. Finally, he had to
erect a barrier of hawsers between the ships. To add to the
general gloom, Sir John Burgh, Buckingham’s immediate
subordinate, was killed by a chance shot. At the outset of
the campaign, the Duke and Sir John had had a few words,
but they had long since been reconciled and Buckingham
had found the co-operation of the veteran soldier invaluable.
‘The sorrow of the Duke, 5 observed Sir Edward Conway,
‘and the honour he doth in his buna! are sufficient en¬
couragement to hazard dying. 5 The same writer is moved
to comment upon the increasing gravity of their position:
‘The army grows daily weaker, victuals waste, purses are
empty, ammuni tion consumes, winter grows, their enemies

1 Cal. S. P. Bom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 33 *-
* Hardwicks, State Papers, a, p.

277

BUCKINGHAM

grow in number and power, and they hear no thing from
England.’ 1

Yet the position of the besieged company in the citadel
was equally desperate. Very scanty had been the supplies
which they had been able to get through, and it is said they
were even driven to eating their horses and boiling their
hides to make soup. On September 28th Buckingham
came within an ace of success. The fortress had only
three days’ supplies left, and accordingly dispatched two
envoys to the Duke to treat for surrender. These two
gentlemen refused to commit themselves on the spot, but
demanded until next morning to think it over. A calm,
moonlight night would have saved Buckingham, but un¬
fortunately that night was one of the darkest and stormiest
they had yet experienced. To the accompaniment of
howling winds and raging seas, the Duke manned his boats
to go and search for an enemy fleet which was reported to
be approaching. The beating winds drove his ships out
of their course, and in the darkness and confusion an enemy
fleet of thirty-five vessels managed to break through the
British lines. The Admiral of this fleet was taken prisoner,
together with several others, but fourteen or fifteen ships
carrying a month’s provisions managed to get through to
the relief of the citadel.

Next day Buckingham made a despairing effort to set the
provision ships on fire, but this again failed, and he and his
officers faced the gloomy outlook. Could they possibly hold
out for another month? Many of the soldiers, in their
hunger, had been eating most immoderately of grapes and
had fallen ill. Their supplies were still low, they knew not
when Holland’s reinforcements would arrive, and mean¬
while the French had time to mass an army on the main¬
land to wipe them out. In face of this disastrous position

1 Cal . S. P. Bom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 352.

278

ON THE ISLE OF RHl

the officers advised Buckingham to abandon the siege,
which counsel he reluctantly determined to follow.

Rumours of this decision must have alarmed the in¬
habitants of La Rochelle, who now came forward with
belated offers of aid. They would take one thousand of the
sick English soldiers into the town and send five hundred
men into the camp with supplies of food, and ships to assist
in guarding the approach to St. Martin’s. This alone
mig ht not have tempted the Duke to remain, but he had
received certain intelligence that the Earl of Holland would
soon be on his way from England, with sufficient supplies
to garrison the army safely throughout the coming winter.
Buckingham summoned his council of war once more, and,
with the exception of one, all voted for the continuation of
the siege.

Buckingham has been severely blamed for this decision by
those who were of opinion that at this point his position
was hopeless. It was most certainly no such thing. Had
the home government given him the support he expected,
at the right time, he would have been strong enough to
repulse the French attack. Richelieu was preparing to
send 6000 infantry and 500 cavalry to the island, but he
realized that these troops would be hopelessly inadequate
should the English reinforcements arrive. He knew that
time was to be the crucial factor, and wrote home that
should he fail to relieve the citadel before the arrival of the
English forces he might as well abandon- the attempt
altogether.

This seems to be sufficient testimony that at this point
Buckingham had still a very good chance of success. In
truth, the Duke had not made mistakes in military tactics,
as his inexperience might lead us to expect; his chief mis¬
calculation was due to political causes in England which
he could not possibly control in his present position. Had

279

BUCKINGHAM

the 8000 men who were daily expected to arrive under
Holland come to time, the French would probably have
made no attempt to land their troops on the island. Against
a force of such magnitude they would have been powerless.
So Buckingham made his decision to accept the offer of the
Rochellese, which would enable him to keep going for the
time being and to prevent further supplies reaching the
fort, pending the arrival of Holland.

Buckingham’s relatives in England would, no doubt,
have welcomed heartily the news of his abandonment of the
whole affair. They had never wished him to hazard his
person in such a venture and had used all their efforts to
prevent his departure. ‘Queen Dido did never more im¬
portune Aeneas’s stay at Carthage,’ writes a contemporary,
‘ than his mother and sister did his continuance here in
London, yea, even with tears, upon their knees.’ 1 During
his absence his wife was experiencing all the bitterness of
despair. ‘For my part,’ she wrote to him, ‘I have been a
very miserable woman hitherto that never could have you
keep at home. But now I will ever look to be so, until some
blessed occasion comes to draw you quite from the Court.’*
To add to her troubles, she continued, she had now to face
the burden of pregnancy during her husband’s absence,
and could only pray God to send quickly back to her the
being who was the sole blessing of her existence, and whom
she adored with such passionate intensity. Her fears for his
personal safety, as tales of his great daring poured into
England, nearly drove her distracted. To Dr. Moore, a
physician who was with Buckingham in the camp, she
wrote desperately, begging him to do all he could to prevent
her husband landing at La Rochelle: ‘I should think
myself the most miserablest woman in the world if my

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles I, 1, p. 180.

4 Cal. S . P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 229.

280

ON THE ISLE OF RHfe

Lord should go into the mainland, for though God has
blessed him hitherto beyond all imagination in this action,
yet I hope he will not still run on in that hope, to venture
himself beyond all discretion, and I hope this journey has
not made him a Puritan to believe in predestination. I
pray keep him from being too venturous, for it does not
belong to a General to walk trenches: therefore have a care
of him. I will assure you by this action he is not any whit
the more popular man than when he went, therefore you
may see whether these people be worthy for him to venture
his life for.’ 1

As may be imagined, Buckingham’s mother did not
spare him, but rated him very soundly for his folly in
attempting so hazardous an expedition with such inade¬
quate resources. ‘My dearly beloved son,’ she wrote, ‘I
hope your eyes will be opened to see what a great gulf of
business you have put yourself into and so little regarded
at home, where all is merry and well pleased, though the
ships be not victualled as yet, nor mariners to go with
them. As for moneys the kingdom will not supply your
expenses, and every man groans under the burden of the
times.’ In spite of her scolding, his mother could not pre¬
vent her fears for his safety from peeping out at the end of
this letter, where she prayed that ‘God hath not, I hope,
made you so great and given you so many excellent parts
as to suffer you to die in a ditch’.*

Most of Buckingham’s other correspondents at this time
reveal a cloying sycophancy, professing themselves his
humble creatures, and lauding him in extravagant lan¬
guage. But occasionally a bolder spirit speaks out. On
September 21st Sir Robert Pye, Auditor of the Exchequer,
told the Duke very frankly that he wished he ‘would
advisedly consider of the end and how far his Majesty’s

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 400. * Ibid., 1627-28, p. 315.

281

BUCKINGHAM

revenues of all kinds is exhausted. We are upon the third
year’s anticipation beforehand; land, much sold of the
principal; credit lost; and at the utmost shift with the
Commonwealth’. 1 Sir George Goring, an officer of the
King’s household, had much the same tale to tell, and
begged the Duke to return home, where his presence was
most urgently needed to right the confused state of affairs.

The King’s affection for Buckingham was daily growing
stronger, as he listened to tales of his great bravery. At the
end of August he expressed his devotion in the warmest
terms: ‘Steenie’, he wrote, ‘Upon all occasions I am glad
to remember you and no distance of place, nor length of
time can make me slacken, much less diminish, my love
for you than that I have any business to advertise you of.

I know, too, that this is nothing, it being nothing but what
you know already: yet imagining that we (like usurers)
love sometimes to look on our riches, I think it not unac¬
ceptable to you to bid you look on that I esteem to be the
greatest of riches and now hardest to be found, true friend¬
ship, there being no style justlier to be given to any man
than that to me of being, your faithful friend, Charles R.’*
But all the King’s protestations of undying affection for
his friend could not effect his salvation in the face of an
empty treasury and a rebellious nation. The preparation
of Holland’s reinforcements was to repeat the same story
of wearying delays as that of Becher in August. Bucking¬
ham must have strongly doubted Sir Humphrey May’s
assurance of October 7th that ‘the Chancellor of the Ex¬
chequer is not a spark, but a flame of fire in anything that
concerns the Duke’,* as the time passed and Holland’s fleet
did not appear. Outwardly, we are told, he betrayed no
sign of the despair he was experiencing, but once in the

1 Cal. S, P. Pom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 353.

8 Hardwicke, State Papers , 11, p. 15.

8 Cal „ S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 375.

282

ON THE ISLE OF RHfi

privacy of his own quarters he broke out into bitter and
passionate storms of emotion, telling his secretary, Mason,
that none of the great affairs he had ever engaged in had
disturbed him so much as the fear he now entertained of
being abandoned by those at home.

In England affairs were in a shocking state of confusion.
Lord Wilmot, a veteran of the Irish wars, was to wait at
Plymouth and superintend the shipment of part of Hol¬
land’s men. Holland himself was at Portsmouth, super¬
vising the levies arriving there. Ships were also to be
embarked from the Thames, and it had been hoped that
the whole convoy would be gathered together and ready
to sail by October ioth. On this very date, the Commis¬
sioners at Plymouth had to report the arrival of only 1700
men, whose billeting upon private citizens was occasioning
much discontent, and who seized every possible opportunity
of creating disorder or running away. Next day Wilmot
wrote with the same complaints, deploring the fact that
there was still no news of the ships for the Thames, nor had
arms arrived with which the soldiers might exercise. On
the 12th he received orders from Whitehall to proceed
directly to the Isle of Rhi, as quickly as possible without
waiting for Holland. The forces were to meet before St.
Martin’s: Holland was proceeding there straight from
Portsmouth.

On the 16th Holland had to report that he had found the
preparations at that seaport in a sad state of confusion;
there were defects which would take ten or fifteen days to
remedy, insufficient mariners, and an inadequate supply
of powder and victuals. Meanwhile, the ships from the
Thames had only reached the Downs.

The news from Rh6 became daily more depressing. Sick
and m elancholy officers, starving soldiers, exposed half clad
to the rigours of winter — well might one of them write

283

BUCKINGHAM

home, ‘pity our misery’. 1 Wimbledon, newly returned
from the foreign wars, wrote to Buckingham advising him
that if he could not speedily reduce the garrison, he had
better abandon the whole affair. The wintry weather was
against him, and the French had already had ample time
to make strong preparations for the relief. Still the Duke
held out, hoping against hope for the timely arrival of
succour, and his unfortunate men ‘looked themselves and
their perspectives blind’ 2 in watching despairingly for the
Earl of Holland.

This nobleman had eventually managed to put forth
from Portsmouth on October 19th, but already the wind,
which had been favourable for the past week, was veering.
By midnight he was driven to seek shelter at Cowes, and
only narrowly escaped being drowned in the angry seas.
Leaving his windbound ships, he managed to reach the
mainland and proceeded on horseback to Plymouth, in a
frantic effort to join Wilmot and hasten to Rhe with all
speed. Alas for his hopes! The wind at Plymouth had also
changed, and there was no immediate prospect of embark¬
ing upon the voyage. His general depression was
strengthened by the discovery that the utmost chaos pre¬
vailed at Plymouth. ‘There was no officer or creature could
tell what there was aboard the provision ships’, 2 he
declared, whilst the arms were painfully inadequate.
Meanwhile, a strong sou’-westerly gale was sweeping the
Channel and it looked as if the fleet would be port-bound
for several days. The crews in the Catwater were eating
the victuals which had been provided for the forces at Rhe,
but nothing could be done. To the more despondent it
looked as if God himself were against them, and had sent
this contrary wind to frustrate absolutely all their chances

1 C«Z. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 390.

4 Ibid., 1627-28, p. 402.

284

* Ibid., 1627-28, p. 391-

ON THE ISLE OF RHfi

of success. On the 27th news reached England that Buck¬
ingham had received intelligence that the French King
intended to land a large force to occupy the small fort of
La Pree. Unless help arrived quickly, they were lost. It
seemed that Holland would only arrive in timp fo r the
melancholy duty of escorting the Duke back, should he
manage to survive the dangers of his present position, which
was becoming increasingly perilous.

On October 29th a fair wind deceived the Earl into
thinking the storm had ended, and he left the Catwater
‘with fine weather and the fairest wind that ever blew*. 1
But the lull in the storm had been cruelly deceptive, and
that night a fierce gale arose, which lashed the waves
angrily for twenty-four hours. The ships were obliged to
put back into port, many of them seriously damaged.
Three days after this calamity, a company of 600 newly
impressed soldiers arrived at Plymouth, and further evi¬
dence of the absolute chaos prevailing amongst those in
authority was contained in the fact that no one knew what
to do with the soldiers, and the Earl was obliged to support
them out of his own purse for the time being. On Novem¬
ber 8th, ‘having a hopeful wind, a light moon and fair
weather’, 1 Holland again set sail, too late now could he
but have known it.

As the days had passed, with no sign of the much longed
for reinforcements, the company on the Isle of Rhe became
more importunate in pressing for a retreat. The end of
October was marked by rumours of their abandonment of
the siege, but Buckingham, sick to the heart at this seeming
desertion by those at home, and knowing full well all that
his failure would mean, hung on desperately. The rumours
that the French were going to garrison the smaller fortress
of La Pr6e proved only too true. By October 20th there

1 Cal. S. P. Dorn. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 41a- * Ibid., 1627-28, p. 4*7-

285

BUCKINGHAM

were nearly two thousand soldiers entrenched in its strong-
holds, and it was expected that the numbers would increase
daily.

It was terrible for Buckingham to be within an ace of
success, and then see the prize torn from his grasp. He
knew quite well that the force within the citadel of St
Martin’s could not hold out much longer, for it was com¬
mon talk that Toiras had only 500 men left. Yet the Duke
could not leave his men, in their present state, open to a
rear attack from the French forces in La Pree, and was
reluctantly obliged to order a retreat. With the abandon¬
ment of despair, he ordered an assault to be made upon the
citadel, as a final effort. The attack was made, and the
enemy came forth from La Pree two thousand strong to
attack the English force in the rear. After an unnecessary
massacre, the latter were forced to retreat. Buckingham
should now have embarked for home immediately, but his
kind heart was touched at the spectacle of the sufferings
of the wounded, and the next two days were spent in attend¬
ing to them and getting them on board ship.

This gave the French ample time to draw up a strong
force to attack the retreating army. Buckingham had
resolved to withdraw to the small island of Loix — now
joined to the mainland of Rhe — and from there to embark.
This little island had been joined to Rhd by a small wooden
bridge, over which the British soldiers were to pass. There
should have been a strong fortification on the Rhe side of
the bridge, but by some unhappy chance this side was left
entirely undefended, whilst at the point where the bridge
joined the island there was a mere handful of sixty cavalry.
One of the officers commanding these men comments upon
the inadequacy of their numbers, but is quite clear in
relieving Buckingham of the direct responsibility for the
blunder, declaring that it was ‘an error never to be suffi-

286

ON THE ISLE OF RHE

ciently condemned in the Colonel-General and the Ser¬
geant-Major-General, to whom the Duke committed the
retreat’. 1 So, with the bridge entirely unguarded at one
side, and most inadequately defended at the other, the
British forces commenced to cross from Rhe to Loix.
Naturally, the French had grasped the position, and,
allowing three regiments of British infantry to pass on to
the bridge, they charged the 60 horsemen at the other side
with a force of cavalry 200 strong. The British cavalry,
unable to stand up to so large a force, dashed on the bridge
and threw the infantry into a state of hopeless confusion.
Meanwhile, a body of French soldiers attacked (from the
rear) the regiments which had not yet crossed the bridge.
The wholesale carnage which ensued was terrible. Not a
soldier crossed the bridge, whilst the officers fell one by one
to the butchery of the French. In addition, hundreds of
men fell over the sides of the bridge into the water and were
drowned. Buckingham did his best to save the situation,
staying on the bridge until the very end, and ‘carrying
himself beyond expression bravely’. 8 After a while, the
French were beaten back, the bridge repaired and the
remains of the unfortunate army embarked for England.
Many fine officers were lost in the skirmish, including Sir
Alexander Brett, Sir Ralph Bingley, and Sir Edward
Hawley. Lord Montjoy and Sir Edward Grey were taken
prisoners. Altogether, counting the loss from disease, the
English forces which arrived at Plymouth in November
numbered only about one half of the gallant regiments
which had set sail in June. The ill-fated expedition had
ended on a note of terrible tragedy.

And yet it is only fair to Buckingham to recognize that,
except for the miscalculation over the assault, he had made
no tactical blunders. It was more than galling for him to see

1 Gardiner, vi, p. 197/. * Cal. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 428.

287

BUCKINGHAM

his chances slipping away, day by day, through the neglect
of those at home. He was so very near success that it almost
seems as if Fate had intervened to stop his victory. The
south-west wind which held up Holland in the Channel
probably changed the course of our history. Had Bucking¬
ham returned home from Rhe victorious, with that valuable
island added to our possessions, and the Protestant cause
gloriously redeemed, he would have been met by loud
popular acclamation, so fickle is the mob. Perhaps his
previous disasters would have been forgotten, or at any
rate set down to misfortune. Parliament would have met in
a patriotic mood, eager to vote supplies and get on with the
war, ready to forget the word prerogative. Who can tell?
At any rate, although it is interesting to speculate over
the possible results of Buckingham’s victory at Rhe, there
is no need to have to speculate upon the results of his
failure.

A proud nation was pierced to the heart by the tales of
the disgraceful and unnecessary massacre on the retreat
from the island. ‘The greatest and shamefullest overthrow
the English have received since we lost Normandy’, 1 writes
a contemporary. Even more galling was the thought that
forty British ensigns had been captured and sent to Paris
to be set up in Notre-Dame, a symbol of our humiliation.
We were a byword on the Continent. To the Savoy
Ambassador the French King declared satirically: ‘Alack,
if I had known my brother of England longed so much for-
the Isle of Rhe, I would have sold it him for half the money
it hath cost him.’ 2 In Paris a French libel declared that
though the Duke of Buckingham were not able to take the
citadel of Rhi, yet he would be able to take the Tower of
London. In London itself a s tingin g satire was published,
entitled, In reditum Duds , commencing

1 Birch, Court and Timet of Charles I, i, p. 285. 2 Ibid., 1, p. 281.

288

ON THE ISLE OF RHfi

Art thou returned again with all thy faults,

Thou great commander of the ne’er do aughts?

and ending with the ill-applied couplet:

Three things have lost our honour, men surmise
Thy treachery, neglect and cowardice. 1

But whoever might blame him, Buckingham was always
sure of the support and approbation of his royal master. A
letter from Charles met him upon his landing at Ports¬
mouth, assuring him of the King’s constant affection, in
spite of his failure to ‘perfect his work, happily begun, but,
I must confess with grief, ill seconded’. Charles’s perfect
trust in his friend was demonstrated in the plenary com¬
mission he gave him to commence any other designs he
might have in mind, with or without a preliminary consul¬
tation. In conclusion he reaffirmed the constancy of his
devotion: ‘With whatsoever success ye shall come to me, ye
s hall ever be welcome, one of my greatest griefs being that
I have not been with you in this time of suffering, for I
know we could have eased each other’s griefs ... In my
mind ye have gained as much reputation with wise and
honest men in this action as if ye had performed all your
desires.’*

It was on the evening of November 12th that Buckingham
landed at Plymouth, and it is much to his credit that he
would not continue his journey until he had seen that his
sick and wounded men received adequate attention. They
were taken ashore at Plymouth and the rest proceeded to
Portsmouth. Altogether there were over a thousand sick
men, and Buckingham left ^ 3 j 5 00 whh Sir James Bagg, the
new Vice-Admiral of Devon, that their wants might be
supplied.

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1627-28, p. 453-
* Habdwicke, State Papers, n, p. zo.

289

T

BUCKINGHAM

At Plymouth the Duke was met by a special messenger
expressly sent by Lord Goring, warning him, if he valued his
safety, to avoid the ordinary route up to London. He had
received certain intelligence of a plot to kill him on his way
back to court. It was not in Buckingham’s nature to be
daunted by such threats, and he went his way without any
undue apprehension, though his retinue was only seven or
eight in number, and provided merely with ordinary
swords. About three miles outside Plymouth they met an
old woman by the roadside, who inquired whether the
Duke of Buckingham were in their company. On being
assured that he was, she asked to be led to his horse’s side,
and informed him that in the town which lay next on his
route she had heard some desperate men vow his death.
She offered to direct him by a safer route, but Buckingham
still refused to change his direction, saying that if he once
gave way to such fear he would live under it for the rest of
his life. He preferred death to cowardice. Impetuously his
young nephew, Viscount Fielding, besought the Duke to
wear his coat and blue riband until they were through the
town, so that the would-be assassins might not know him.
The young man, dressed in Buckingham’s clothes, would
hide his face in a muffler and try to imitate the Duke’s
deportment. Buckingham’s kindly nature was so touched at
this demonstration of affection that he caught the boy in
his arms and kissed him, but he utterly declined to accept
such a sacrifice. Rewarding the old woman for her pains,
the company continued their journey untroubled, except
for the fact that at the next town a vagrant soldier grabbed
the Duke’s bridle and hung on to it. He was immediately
severed from his hold by Buckingham’s attendants, and they
galloped quickly through the town.

On the evening of November 17th, Buckingham arrived
in London and met Charles, who received him ‘most

ago

ON THE ISLE OF RHE

joyfully and graciously’. They greeted each other with
great affection, and the King could not sufficiently reproach
himself for his failure to send out supplies in tiW . i Next day
Charles and Buckingham held a secret Council meeting,
where the Duke gave a faithful relation of the events which
had occurred on the island, ‘praising all who had worked
with him, descending even to the good and bold actions of
the private soldiers, as exhibited by the great patience of
the army, and the fair opportunity offered of turning then-
sufferings into glory, if their virtue had been seconded with
the powers and succours designed for it’. For his officers
he had nothing but the highest commendation. Already
his sanguine disposition was reasserting itself, and he
forgot his bitter disappointment in the excitement of a new
attack he was considering, to be launched against Calais.*

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles /, i, p. 289.

2 See Hardwicke, State Papers , II, p. 21.

CHAPTER XIV

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

It was soon evident that the war with France was to continue,
for Charles had by now formed an almost fanatical con¬
ception that it was his duty to relieve La Rochelle. To the
Venetian Ambassador he spoke of his desire to ‘give peace
to the Huguenots whom, by the last treaty, the French Kin g
himself compelled me to take under my protection. He is
determined to destroy .La Rochelle and I am no less
resolved to support it 5 . Buckingham’s language was even
stronger. ‘The French have no desire for peace, 5 he de¬
clared. ‘Let all men beware of treating with them, for they
are false.’ 1 The suggested attack on Calais was apparently
dropped, for we hear no more of it, and all Charles’s
energies were concentrated upon the problem of relieving
La Rochelle. To this primary object the continental war
had come to occupy a secondary place — much to the
general dissatisfaction. The English armies abroad, under
that splendid veteran, Sir Charles Morgan, were fighting a
losing battle, but Charles could seemingly contemplate
their defeat with equanimity provided he could relieve
the inhabitants of La Rochelle.

The popular resentment against Buckingham had
reached fever pitch, and attempts upon his life were daily
feared. During March, 1628, when the City of London
gave a banquet to the Duke and other great personages at
court, the streets had to be lined with armed trained bands to
prevent any accidents, a thing rarely seen in this country.
All manner of wild rumours began to float about, painting

1 Cantarim to the Doge, Jan. and, i6a8, Cal, S, P, Vtn., 1626-28, pp. 54*i 543-

292

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

Buckingham in the blackest possible colours. Men still
refused to believe that he had the voluntary support of
Charles. There was a general feeling that the King was a
good prince could one but get behind the dark shadow of
the Duke’s influence over him. That Charles had often
instigated and always assented to his friend’s actions the
people could not — or would not — believe. On all sides it
was predicted, as if wishing could make it so, that the
Duke’s retirement from public life and his ruin were
imminent. Such rumours were, of course, thoroughly
unfounded, and Buckingham was throwing himself whole¬
heartedly into the preparations for the new expedition to
relieve Rochelle. The conditions with whichhe had to deal
were appalling, and there was, as usual, the ever-present
dearth of money.

At Plymouth, the few sailors who were left were in a
deplorable condition. Their clothes were utterly inade¬
quate for the approaching winter, and they had resorted to
stealing and selling the soldiers’ guns for ready cash. At
Portsmouth, a large body of sailors was ready to march up
to Whitehall to demand satisfaction, for they had received
no pay for ten months, their clothes were in tatters, and
they knew not where to turn. Even worse was the case of
the soldiers, for their discontent vented itself upon private
citizens. In the absence of sufficient funds to pay their
expenses at the inns, they were billeted upon peaceful
householders, to whom their conduct was most odious. It
is said they wrecked the household goods and the furniture,
and even flung their meals into the fire if they objected to
them.

There was urgent need of money to pay off these unruly
soldiers, and it was estimated that well over £300,000 would
be required to set out the fifty ships it was intended to send
to La Rochelle. The King was distracted to know which

293

BUCKINGHAM

way to turn to get the money, men groaned beneath the
burdens of the times, and on all sides there was a cry for
peace with France. Against the bulk of the nation, and
even most of the Lords of the Council, Charles and
Buckingham stood out for the French war, and continued
their frenzied efforts to raise the necessary funds.

There was one method, which might legitimately have
been employed in happier times. Parliament alone could
vote the necessary money, but Parliament had been
summarily dismissed in a very violent mood. And the
disasters which had occurred since then augured no good.
The King was resolved that only as a last resort would he
meet his unruly opponents of the Westminster benches.
Most men put it down to a piece of fine acting on Bucking¬
ham’s part when he fell on his knees and implored Charles
to summon Parliament, saying that if he were worthy of
death let them not spare him. He may have been sincere
enough, for he lived and died in the hope that some day he
would be able to win over the people to his cause, and take
up his position as their accredited leader.

Desperately Charles summoned his Council to advise him
upon extraordinary methods of raising revenue. Someone
— we know not whom — suggested imposing an excise upon
such commodities as beer and wine, enforcing it by
proclamation, the contravention of which would be
punishable in the Star Chamber. Buckingham, having by
now abandoned his erstwhile enthusiasm for summoning
a Parliament, proposed that the King should raise a
military force to strengthen his authority. The sum of
£200,000 would support a force of 11,000 men, who could
be employed by the King for his own uses when they were
not required for the foreign wars. Both Charles and
Buckingham showed a lamentable misunderstanding of the
vigorous insular pride of the nation when they arranged for

394

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

a force of a thousand German cavalry to supplement this
standing army. The foreigners would naturally be
regarded with suspicion by the English and their intro¬
duction only serve to increase popular apprehension. There
were rumours that the Germans were being brought over as
a special bodyguard for the Duke.

The suggestion to impose an excise was dropped, as
likely to cause too much opposition, and for days the
Council debated upon this way and that of raising supplies.
They all ended in the inevitable conclusion — Parliament
must be summoned. Those who had been imprisoned for
refusal to pay the loan were now at liberty, so there could
be no trouble on that score. The King would make it clear
to the assembly beforehand that they were not to resume the
attack on Buckingham or they would be peremptorily
dismissed. Charles was eventually persuaded to give way,
and late on the night of January 30th, 1628, gave orders that
writs might be issued for the election of members for
March 17th.

Before Parliament met Charles intended that his fleet
should be at Rochelle, so that it could not bring about any
reversal of his plans. The expedition was to be commanded
this time, not by the Duke, but by his brother-in-law the
Earl of Denbigh. The scarcity of money rendered the
preparations necessarily slow, in spite of Buckingham’s
personal attention, and the want of organization frequently
resulted in the supplies of food going bad and having to be
replaced. It was not until the middle of April that the
expedition was ready to sail, and even at the last minute
many of the sailors mutinied, barricaded themselves in the
townhall at Plymouth, refusing to serve unless they receive
twenty instalments of pay. They were finally subdued, and
the fleet was ready to sail by May 8th. It was not a strong
force. Of the fifty-three vessels only nine were of the

295

BUCKINGHAM

Royal Navy, twenty-seven were armed merchantmen, and
the rest auxiliaries. Its avowed object was merely to
revictual La Rochelle, and to this end it carried sufficient
grain, butter, cheese and salt meat for the maintenance of
ten to twelve thousand people for six months. There was a
distressing shortage of sailors, so they had to employ
soldiers in their stead in many cases. Apparently, no one
entertained any doubts that the attempt to succour the
town would be anything but successful.

None the less, Richelieu had done his utmost to render
the approach of a relieving force impossible. The
French, who were besieging Rochelle, were openly of
opinion that the English force would be unable to effect its
objects, and must needs retire in disgrace. The Cardinal
had caused a mole to be erected to blockade the entrance to
the harbour. This was yet in an imperfect state of com¬
pletion. In front of it, he had placed a barricade of large
ships, chained together by cables. The ships were provided
with light artillery and manned by musketeers, and were
intended to make a preliminary firing upon the English
ships, after which they were to retire to the mole and the
forts. At this point the English would have to pass in single
file, to the accompaniment of fire from the mole and the
fortresses — ‘a hail of shot from every quarter’. 1 Should they
manage to withstand this, a further attack would greet them
from tide banks of the harbour, whilst inside rode the great
fleet of eighty large warships, chained together by cables,
and practically indestructible. Such were the reports of
the French fortifications which reached England. But that
there were weaknesses in this apparently fool-proof defence
was demonstrated by the fact that small vessels, braving all
its dangers, frequently managed to make their way with
help for the blockaded town. In spite of the very formid-

1 Zorzi to the Doge, May ist, i6a8, Cal. S. P. Ven., 1628**9, P- 75 -

296

the beginning of the end

able appearance of Richelieu’s fortifications, an observer
was driven to comment that they would ‘never stop anyone
determined upon going in, any more than spiders’ webs
can stop eagles, or nets enchain the winds’. 1 There was a
gap of one thousand paces between the ends of the mole,
whilst the ships were in reality inadequately manned. They
had been stripped of sailors, did not carry their full quota
of soldiers, and were deplorably short of guns.

These comforting tidings were not known to Denbigh’s
fleet, which arrived on May nth before the mouth of
Rochelle harbour. They were completely daunted by the
spectacle of apparent impregnability which met their
eyes. To enter the harbour seemed to be to court destruc¬
tion, and the merchantmen were exceedingly loth to risk
their ships in such a doubtful enterprise. There was no
courage, no confidence, no enthusiasm. Denbigh was a
thoroughly incompetent leader, incapable of inspiring his
men with a spirit he did not himself possess. The desperate
chances which Buckingham had taken at Rhe were quite
beyond him. Unwilling to risk an attack on the mole, he
gave orders to the ships to weigh anchor, that they might
retire to some distance to await events. There were a few
Rochellese ships accompanying the expedition, and these,
migtaltin g the orders, thought they were weighing anchor to
return to England. The rest of the fleet only too willingly
followed their example and, after one of the most igno¬
minious exhibitions in history, the great expedition set sail
for home.

It is said that Louis and Richelieu had trembled upon the
approach of the British ships and were more than relieved
to see them depart. Within the town of La Rochelle, the
unfortunate Huguenots, their indignation stirred by this
base desertion, lowered the English flags which had floated

1 Zorzi to the Doge, June lath, 1628; Cal. S. P. Ven., 1628-29, p. Il8 -

297

BUCKINGHAM

proudly from their highest tower and their flagship. In
their place they hoisted first a white and then a black flag,
to indicate that they would either regain their liberty or
die within the walls of the town.

The news that the fleet was on its way home reached
Charles on May 19th, just two days after he had sent an
order to Denbigh to hold on at La Rochelle as long as
possible. Efts anger knew no bounds, and young Lord
Fielding, Denbigh’s son, was dispatched to Portsmouth to
send the fleet back at all costs, and to press into the King’s
service all vessels he could lay hands on. Yet, willing though
Denbigh was to return, his ships were in no condition to
make the return journey, being full of sick men. It was
eventually decided that the expedition should be delayed
until a strong fleet could be prepared to sail once more
under the personal command of the Lord Admiral.

Nor were the fortunes of the English regiments in
Germany able to add any brightness to the general outlook.
Sacrificed during the whole autumn and winter of 1627 to
Buckingham’s exploits at Rhe, they had been in a sorry
plight. Their staple diet consisted of cat and dog, whilst it
was only on the personal credit of the commanders,
Anstruther and Morgan, that shoes and stockings were
obtained for the unfortunate soldiers. By now the conti¬
nental war had resolved itself into a series of blockades, and
Morgan’s men were endeavouring to hold out against
Tilly’s besieging forces in the town of Stade on the western
bank of the Elbe. In spite of the penury and disease
amongst the troops, the brave regiments under their
dauntless general held out as long as was humanly possible,
utterly abandoned by the government at home. But on
April 27th even Morgan’s indomitable spirit had to face
defeat, and Stade was surrendered to Tilly. To such a
sorry pass had come the great scheme outlined only four

298

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

years ago, of waging a war in conjunction with the
Protestant Princes of Northern Europe for the deliverance
of the Palatinate and the salvation of the Protestant cause
It was in the midst of events galling to the heart of any
true Englishman that the memorable third Parliament of
Charles assembled. A more illustrious assembly had seldom
gathered in the ancient chapel of St. Stephen’s. A com
temporary declares that the members elected to the House
of Commons could have bought the Upper House thrice
over, being the most noble and magnanimous assembly
those walls ever contained’. 1 They were not King’s men
A Venetian observes that the nation had uniformly re¬
jected candidates who had even a shadow of dependence on
the Court, electing members who had refused to pay the
late subsidies and ‘who are now everywhere declared good
patriots’.* It was an ominous reflection of public opinion.
Particularly had the recent elections gone against the Duke
of Buckingham. At this time the Duke was Steward of
Westminster, and using his influence in this capacity, had
twice forced into the representation his agent, Sir Robert
Pye. On this occasion, however, Sir Robert’s connection
with Buckingham made him odious to the constituency.
For three days the election waxed fast and furious. The
feeble cries of ‘A Pye! A Pye!’ were overwhelmed with
derisive shouts of ‘A Pudding! A Pudding!’ and Sir Robert
was finally defeated by Mr. Bradshaw, a brewer, and Mr.
Maurice, a grocer, who carried the day by a majority of
over a thousand voices.* Everywhere the court party was
defeated, and Charles must have felt apprehensive as such
names as Pym, Eliot, Hampden, Selden, Holies, and Glan-
ville occurred in the returns, for all these men had made
their mark at some time in the struggle between King and

* Birch, Court and Times of Charles I, i, p. 331.

Contarini to the Doge, March 15th, 1638, Cal . S. P. Ven. (1638-39), p. az.

Birch, Court and Times of Charles 1 , 1, p. 337.

BUCKINGHAM

Parliament. It is possible that he passed over a name not
yet of great importance, but soon to be blazoned in letters
of fire upon the annals of our history. For the first tim? a
cousin of Hampden’s, returned by the Puritans of the city
of Huntingdon, made his appearance on the Commons’
benches. His name was Oliver Cromwell.

Four days before the session opened some of the Com¬
mons’ leaders held a meeting at the house of Sir Robert
Cotton. They comprised — as far as we can tell — Eliot,
Wentworth, Holies, Pym, Kyrton, Selden, and Sir Edward
Coke. The subject of their conference was whether the
impeachment of the Duke of Buckingham, so summarily
repressed in the last Parliament, should be revived. It was>
decided, for the present, to refrain from any such attack
but to devote themselves to the preservation of their ancient
privileges and the reform of the recent abuses which had
crept into the body politic. The Commons were meeting
in a grim mood, and the struggle was likely to be vital and
desperate.

On the morning of March 17th, 1628, Parliament
assembled, and the King’s speech soon showed the mem¬
bers why they had been called together. Charles had
nerved himself well for the coming struggle, and spoke
briefly and to the point. His opening sentence touched
upon his desire to avoid lengthy argument. ‘Now is the
time for action’, he declared, ‘and so I will not multiply
words. Following my example, I hope you will decide
properly, because time presses and we must not waste it
upon unnecessary or rather dangerous things, as long dis¬
cussions in the present state of Christendom are almost as
harmful as deciding nothing.’ They had been summoned
because of the common peril, and their duty was to vote
supplies. Should they refuse, it would become the King’s
melancholy duty to dissolve Parliament, and resort to

300

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

‘other means’ — ominous words! With superb self-confi¬
dence he assured them that this was no threat, as he would
disdain to threaten those who were not his equals, but
merely an admonition. After a final appeal for their loyal
co-operation, he turned the rest over to the Lord Keeper. 1

If Charles had hoped to frighten the Commons into sub¬
mission he was disappointed. On Monday, March 24th,
it was intended to submit a proposition for supply before
the House. But the intrepid members had anticipated the
King, and during a long and stormy debate on the 21st
the struggle had opened, the Commons taking up the firm
position that redress of grievances should precede supply.
Seymour declared bitterly that the man who would let his
goods be taken from him against his will was no good sub¬
ject, but a slave. Phelips carried the argument further in
ringing phrases: ‘If this be law, why do we talk of liberty?
Why do we trouble ourselves to dispute about franchises,
property, goods and the like?’ Coke quoted the passage
from a statute of Edward III, ‘Loans against the will of
the subject are against reason and the franchises of the
land’. In vain did Rudyerd plead for moderation: ‘Is
there no balm in Gilead? If we persevere, the King to
draw one way, the Parliament another, the commonwealth
must sink in the midst.’* His only answer was a magnificent
speech from that great orator Sir Thomas Wentworth,
who, in the excitement and enthusiasm of the moment
uttered momentous words which were later to rebound
with such terrible force upon himself. His wrath grew
terrible as he dwelt upon the recent outrages — the im¬
pressment of soldiers, the enforced billeting upon peaceful
citizens, the unjust imprisonments of loyal subjects for
refusals to allow their goods to be snatched from them.

1 Lords 9 Journals, in, p. 687; Rushworth, Historical Collections , 1, p. 476.

8 Rushworth, i, p, 501,

301

BUCKINGHAM

In burning phrases he made his impassioned appeal for the
preservation of good government. £ We must vindicate —
What? New things? No! Our ancient, lawful and vital
liberties! We must reinforce the laws made by our
ancestors. We must set such a stamp upon them as no
licentious spirit shall dare hereafter to invade them.’ He
went further when he attributed all the recent evils to
‘projectors’ who had ‘introduced a privy council, ravishing
at once the spheres of all ancient government, imprisoning
us without banks or bounds’. 1 Here was no revolutionary,
seeking to set up new forms of government, but rather one
who was ready to devote his life to the preservation of the
ancient order of things. His main grievance against Buck¬
ingham was that his incompetence had destroyed that
orderliness he would fain have seen established in England.
He viewed with alarm the introduction of secret councils,
which have, indeed, inspired distrust and hatred in all
honest Englishmen through the ages. Wentworth had un¬
doubtedly suffered at the hands of Buckingham, but his
attack was not a personal one. At this very moment, he
would still have been ready to serve his King in the cause
of just government. He had never really seen eye to eye
with the Parliament men, and even before Buckingham’s
death was obliged to dissociate himself from them and
enter the King’s service. But as long as Buckingham lived
it was clear that Wentworth would never be able to guide
Charles in the path wherein he would have seen him
walk.

Sir John Eliot, with his usual impassioned rhetoric, now
proceeded to attack the very basis of kingship, and sought
to set up the banner of the people, whose liberties he saw
at stake. ‘Upon this dispute,’ he declared, ‘not alone our
lands and goods are engaged, but all that we call ours.

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections, I, p. 502.

302

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

Those rights, those privileges which made our fathers free
men, axe in question.’ 1 Although perhaps he himself
scarcely realized it, he was clearly narrowing down the
issue to the simple one of King versus People. At the
moment he concealed the real issue behind the cloak of
Buckingham’s power, and affirmed that he was defending
the King from an evil councillor no less than the people
from injustice and oppression. There was no general con¬
ception that the King and Buckingham were one. It was
universally believed that only the Duke’s evil influence
prevented their getting into touch with their monarch.
But renew the impeachment they dared not, for Charles
had made it sufficiently clear that any such attempt would
be followed by an immediate dissolution.

By March 28th the Commons had strenuously contested
the King’s right to arbitrary imprisonment and arbitrary
taxation. Upon the former power Charles was most loth
to relinquish his hold. What would happen, he asked
again and again, if in times of great peril the King were not
allowed to commit dangerous conspirators to prison with¬
out revealing his secret causes? This power the Commons
had never really questioned, although it was, perforce,
included in the general protest. The point was that Charles
had misused his prerogative by turning it against his own
subjects for his own illegal ends. This was their view of
the situation.

The debates on these vexed questions waxed fast and
furious. It seemed that the session would never end. The
King did not allow the usual Easter recess, the Commons
sat all through the normal holiday, and the Good Friday
of 1628 was one of the busiest days they had ever seen.
All day they argued hotly as to whether subsidies should be
given before grievances had been redressed. On April 12th

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections, I, p. 503.

303

BUCKINGHAM

the King sharply admonished the House to proceed with
the voting of money, and was answered two days later by a
statement that it was their right to consider grievances
first. Subdued by the disheartening news of the foreign
wars, Charles did not reply as sharply to this as he might
have done a few months before, merely beseeching the
Commons to be speedy with their grant of funds ere a
foreign foe should take away both his and their liberties
for ever.

After fiery debates, in which Buckingham’s policy was
clearly attacked although his name was not mentioned, it
was decided that the vote of subsidies should be accom¬
panied by a petition setting forth the liberties of the subject
more clearly than had been done since the days of the
Great Charter. The supply offered was a generous one no
doubt to sweeten the bitter pill they were asking the King
to swallow.

The petition — to be known as the Petition of Right —
embodied the four great points that there should be no
more arbitrary taxation, arbitrary imprisonment, martial
law or billeting of soldiers. On May ioth a Committee of
the Lords met to consider the acceptance of the petition,
and, except for the clause on arbitrary imprisonment, were
agreed to present it to the Kin g without amendment. The
resolution against imprisonment, they considered, must be
accompanied by the words, ‘with due regard to leave
entire that sovereign power wherewith your Majesty is
invested for the protection, safety and happiness of
your people.’ 1 Seeing the full implication of this, Buck¬
ingham now proposed that this reservation of sovereignty
should apply to the whole petition — which would have,
in short, the effect of nullifying it. The Lords were not
slow to realize this. Rejecting Buckingham’s proposal —

1 Rtjshwoeth, Historical Collections^ J, p. 576.

3°4

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

and incidentally his authority - they endorsed the petition
on May 28th.

Had Charles been in less severe straits he would no
doubt have refused to consider such a petition. But it was
obviously a choice between acceptance and the means to
carry on the war against France and a dissolution, whereby
he would be compelled to make an ignominious peace. He
felt that his honour was bound up in the cause of the Pro¬
testants at La Rochelle. They themselves had reminded
him that they were reduced to their present straits by the
measures of relief they had given Buckingham at Rhe.
Charles was determined that Rochelle should be relieved
at all costs and to this end gave the petition his attention.
His answer was to be given on June 2nd, and it was with
deep forebodings that the Commons learnt how Bucking¬
ham carried Charles off to his country seat for the entire
day on June 1st. The Duke had no desire for the Ring to
assent to the petition as it now stood, and it was probably
as a result of their joint efforts that an amazingly m eaning ,
less answer was returned next day, making no specific men¬
tion of the petition, but merely declaring that it was ever
the royal will to do justice according to the laws and cus¬
toms of the realm.

This tacit ignoring of their petition stirred the Commons
to fiery indignation. It was well known to them that
Buckingham had used all his powers against it in the Lords,
that he had spent the day with Charles before the answer
was given and that the Council which had given its con¬
sent to this more than ambiguous reply, was of his own
choosing. The way was clear before them. No longer
would they refrain, in fear, from attacking the King’s
favourite.

The name of Buckingham must have impressed itself in
letters of fire upon the mind 'of every man who sat at West-

u 305

BUCKINGHAM

minster upon this memorable occasion and listened to the
impassioned denunciations Sir John Eliot now poured
forth against the incompetence of those responsible for all
the past disasters. ‘The whole kingdom is a proof’, he
cried. ‘What waste of our provisions, what consumption
of our ships, what destruction of our men have been! Wit¬
ness the journey to Algiers! Witness that with Mansfeld!
Witness that to Cadiz! Witness that to Rhd! Witness the
last! And I pray God we shall never have more witnesses...
We were never so much weakened, nor had less hope now
to be restored .’ 1 He did not mention the Duke’s name.
The impeachment was not to be revived, but he did de¬
mand that a Remonstrance on the misgovernment of the
realm be drawn up and presented to the King.

Up to the present, the House had retained a simple and
loyal faith in Charles himself, imputing all his mistakes to
evil counsel. Their consternation was complete when they
received a sharp message from the King that they were
not to waste their time in any new business as the session
was to end in a week, and in particular they were requested
not to open any topic which might ‘lay any scandal or
aspersion upon the State, Government or ministers thereof. ’
Even yet the Commons were slow to comprehend Charles’s
real meaning, to realize that he was against them, that he
would stubbornly defend his rights to the last. They still
persisted in their bewildered faith in his ultimate virtue,
but were openly baffled by their complete failure to get
behind Buckingham’s influence. Their passion burst all
bounds, and one by one these bearded Parliamentarians
broke down and cried like children. Such affecting scenes
had not been witnessed in the House for many a day.
Phelips, in broken phrases, advised that they should all

1 Forster, Sir John Eliot , 11, p. 246.

8 Rushworth, Historical Collections , I, p. 605.

306

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

return home and simply pray for the best, since the King
would not listen to them. 5

The feeling against Buckingham was naturally rising
higher every moment, and when Sir John Eliot arose with
preliminary remarks on the King’s ministers he was
instantly silenced by the Speaker, Finch. So upset was the
latter by the recent events, that he begged leave to absent
himself from the House for half an hour. The leave was
granted, and with tears coursing down his cheeks he ran
to the King to tell him what had happened.

The Commons had taken advantage of his absence to
go into committee to resolve what should be done. Already
the bolder members had found fault with those that wept,
thinking it more meet to take a courageous resolution
against those that were the enemies of the and the
nation. Finally Sir Edward Coke broke the ice. T thinlr
the Duke of Buckingham is the cause of all our miseries,’
he declared, ‘and till the King be informed thereof, we
shall never go out with honour or sit with honour here.
That man is the grievance of grievances. Let us set down
the causes of all our disasters and they will reflect on him.’ 1

These words must have struck a chill at the heart of
Buckingham, who, despite his mistakes and misfortunes, had
never relinquished his hopes of vindicating himself before
the people and regaining the popularity he had enjoyed
for so brief a while during 1624. Already during the second
week of April he had made a speech at the Council Table
expressing the sorrow he had experienced as the result of
the recent events. There can be little doubt that he was
sincere, believing quite honestly that all his actions had
been undertaken for the good of the commonwealth. *1
must confess I have long lived in pain,’ he declared to the
Lords of the Council, ‘sleep hath given me no rest, favours

1 Rushworth, Historical Cottectiom, i, p. 607.

307

BUCKINGHAM

and fortunes no content, such have been my secret sorrows,
to be thought the man of separation, that divided the
King from his people and them from him: but I hope it
shall appear they were mistaken minds that would have
made me the evil spirit that walketh between a loyal people
by ill offices: whereas, by your Majesty’s favour, I shall ever
endeavour to approve myself a good spirit breathing no¬
thing but the best services to them all.’ 1 But if Buckingham
could convince himself of his own good intentions, the
Commons were enraged rather than conciliated by his
attempts at explanation. Loftily Sir John Eliot denied
any mere subject the right of mediating between King and
People, and the House applauded him vigorously, with
cries of‘Well spoken, Sir John Eliot!’ 8

So it was in vain that Buckingham, hoping to reinstate
himself in public opinion, now headed a deputation from
both Houses to ask Charles to return a favourable answer
to the Petition of Right. Even the acceptance of the
Petition, as was to be demonstrated, would not pacify the
irate members if unaccompanied by the removal of Buck¬
ingham from the King’s Council. The Duke was no longer
trusted.

Had not the Lords interposed a strong recommendation
to Charles to consider the grievous state of this country
abroad, there is no doubt that Charles would have answered
the recent speeches in Parliament, particularly Sir Edward
Coke’s, with a summary dissolution. His present straits
alone influenced him to give in with as good a grace as
possible. At four o’clock on the afternoon of June 7th the
King summoned the Commons before his throne to hear
his judgment. They were ordered to read their petition,
and he promised them a satisfactory answer. It was read,

1 Rushwqrth, Historical Collections , x, p. 526.

* Birch, Court and Times of Charles /, 1, p. 338,

308

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

and amid loud shouts of acclamation the ancient formula,
Soit droit fait comme est dSsirS, was pronounced.

All London burst into mad rejoicings. In the streets of
the city the scenes were reminiscent of that memorable
occasion when Charles and Buckingham had ridden
through the capital like conquerors after their return from
Spain. Church bells rang out merrily, whilst that night
the town was lit up by bonfires. The joyful news was
spread abroad, and as it travelled it gained the colourful
addition that the Duke had that very night been sent to
the Tower. On Tower Hill a band of youths pulled down
the old scaffold, saying they would have a new one built
for the Duke of Buckingham. The news travelled westward,
and as far as Ware people lit their bonfires and drank to
Buckingham’s death.

309

CHAPTER XV

ASSASSINATION

If the people had imagined that Charles was ready to
throw his friend overboard they were quickly undeceived.
‘Steenie’ continued to be his constant companion, and the
chief in his counsels. The Commons were quick to realize
that the continued ascendancy of the favourite more than
counterbalanced the acceptance of their Petition. So they
proceeded to draw up a Remonstrance, enumerating once
more the past disasters and naming the Duke as their
cause. ‘The excessive power and greatness of the Duke of
Buckingham, 5 it stated clearly, ‘and his abuse of the
greatness near and about the King, is the cause of all these
evils happened to both King and Kingdom.’ 1 They de¬
manded Buckingham’s withdrawal from Charles’s Council.
In a modem state this would be equivalent to a vote of
lack of confidence. The King, however, quickly demon¬
strated that he cared little for the nation’s opinion, so long
as his minister retained his own trust. June 17th was the
day appointed for the presentation of the Remonstrance to
the King, and on the 16th Charles ordered that all the
records of the Duke’s mock trial in the Star Chamber,
following his impeachment, should be removed, that there
might be no stain on his memory.

Perhaps Charles’s fear and distrust of the popular feeling
had been increased by a recent horrible incident. On
Friday, June 13th, a certain Dr. Lambe, a sort of physician
and astrologer recently consulted by Buckingham and
believed by superstitious folk to be aiding him in nefarious

1 Rushworth, Historical Collections, i, p. 619.

310

ASSASSINATION

designs, was leaving a performance at the Fortune Theatre,
London. On his appearance a crowd of apprentices began
to abuse him loudly, calling him ‘the Duke’s devil’, so that
he was obliged to get a guard of sailors to protect him. He
stopped at a cookshop where he ate his supper, with the
violent crowd waiting outside. As he traced his way to the
Windmill Tavern in Lothbury the mob increased in num¬
bers and fury, and finally set upon him with stones. His
guard was beaten back, and the enraged crowd beat him
down to the ground, battering out one of his eyes. They
left him half dead, and no one could be found to give him
shelter. He had to be taken to a neighbouring prison,
where he died that night. Drunk with rage, the mob
openly boasted of the worse fate which would have befallen
the Duke himself had he fallen into their hands. They
would have minced his flesh, and each had a piece of him.
Charles’s fury knew no bounds as the news reached him,
and he began to regard the opposition to the Duke in
Parliament as an excuse for similar anarchy on a large
scale. His love for his friend increased in direct proportion
to his hatred of the mob. The popular cause gained nothing
by the publication of such couplets as the following:

Let Charles and George do what they can,

The Duke shall die like Dr. Lambe. 1

Charles was in a grim mood when, on June 17th, he
took his place in the famous Banqueting Hall to receive the
Remonstrance. Curtly he told the Commons that such a
remonstrance was utterly unexpected, after his recent
gracious acceptance of their Petition. He would consider
their grievances as they deserved. It is related that Buck¬
ingham fell on his knees, beseeching the King to let him
speak for himself, but Charles refused to allow this. In-

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles I, i, p. 361.

3 ”

BUCKINGHAM

stead, to show his great esteem for his friend, the Kin g
gave him his hand to kiss in the presence of his accusers.

Two days later Charles was incensed by a further de¬
monstration of the popular anarchical sentiments. In
Coleman Street a constable found a libel affixed to a post,
part of which read: ‘Who rules the Kingdom? — the King
Who rules the King? — the Duke. Who rules the Duke? —
the Devil.’ 1 The libellers gave warning to Buckingham to
‘look to it’, for they intended shortly to treat him to worse
usage than they had given his doctor. If the government
were not reformed, they professed, they would work the
reformation themselves. The King’s displeasure was great,
and he ordered a double guard to be placed on the watch
every night.

It was an age of superstition, when omens and spirit
revelations found credence with high and low. Now on all
sides began to arise prophecies of the Duke’s death.
Clarendon devotes pages to a description of how a certain
old friend of Buckingham’s family was commanded by the
apparition of the Duke’s father to go up to London and
warn him that his death was imminent unless he changed
his unpopular tactics. A Lady Eleanor Davis, who pro¬
fessed prophetic powers, fixed his time for August. Worse
still, on the day of Lambe’s murder, the Duke’s picture fell
in the High Commission Chamber at Lambeth. His
family were all prepared for the worst, and the Duchess
seems to have spent her days in a state of terror.

On June 23rd Charles decided to prorogue his factious
Parliament, who were even now preparing another Remon¬
strance, this time to deprive him of his rights to tonnage
and poundage. The breach between King and Parliament
was complete. Treating this assembly with cool disdain,
Charles proceeded to pursue his schemes for the relief of

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles /, i, p. 367.

312

ASSASSINATION

La Rochelle with the close co-operation of the minister
against whom the nation had so loudly protested. The
King was ready to identify his friend’s interests with his
own. Together they would sink or swim. So on Wednes¬
day, June 25th, Charles took Buckingham in his coach to
Deptford, riding with him through the principal part of
London, ‘as it were to grace him’. At Deptford they
inspected ten fair ships, rigged ready for the relief of La
Rochelle. Upon seeing them, the King was heard to remark
to his friend: ‘George, there are some that wish both these
and thou mightest both perish. But care not for them: we
will both perish together if thou doest.’ 1

Perhaps it was in a belated attempt to stave off popular
criticism that in July the Duke surrendered his office as the
Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports to Suffolk. His eyes
seem gradually to have been opening to the realization that
the situation was becoming beyond even his powers of
endurance. Although nothing was further from his
thoughts than a general peace, he did try at this juncture
to curtail the proportions of the continental war. Embassies
were sent into Spain to discuss the prospects of a peace with
that nation, although the allies were not to be abandoned.
It was hoped that Spain might be induced to create fresh
difficulties for the French by pursuing certain quarrels she
had with them in Northern Italy. This would leave the
way clearer for Charles’s campaign in North Germany,
and at La Rochelle, which he hoped he would soon succeed
in relieving.

There was need of all Charles’s optimism in contem¬
plating the plight of the unfortunate Protestants in that
city, who were now enduring all the worst hardships of a
prolonged siege. Grass and roots, shell fish and boiled
leather formed their staple diet, and the wretched populace

1 Eulis, Original Letters, Series I, voL m, p. *5®*

313

BUCKINGHAM

cried out for surrender. Guiton, their iron-willed leader
was only induced to hold on by the knowledge that an
English fleet was coming to their aid, under Buckingham
who would brave all hazards to succour them.

Yet the summer months of 1628 had seen the usual chaos
and incompetence at Portsmouth, and it seemed likely that
the fleet would arrive too late. Sir John Coke wrote to
Buckingham that every day whilst the fleet stayed in the
harbour it would be less ready and worse provided to set to
sea. The victuals and provisions were daily wasting, and the
men, partly by sickness and partly by running away, were
every day growing fewer.

At the end of July Charles went down to Portsmouth in
person to try and bring order into the prevailing chaos.
Buckingham was to follow as soon as he could straighten
out affairs in London. He found this a most depressing
task. On all sides there had been no response to his orders,
his officers had lost faith in him and were loth to do his
bidding. Despairingly he wrote to Conway, ‘I find nothing
of more difficulty and uncertainty than the preparation
here for this service of Rochelle. Every man says he has all
things ready and yet all remains at a stand. It will be
Saturday night before all the victuals will be aboard, and
I dare not come from hence till I see that dispatched, being
of such importance.’ 1

The afternoon of the day on which he wrote these
despondent lines, Buckingham received a visit from Con-
tarini, the Venetian Ambassador, who had been much
disturbed by the heartless suggestion of turning North
Italy into a batdeground for France and Spain. He came
armed with nothing less than the news of an offer from
France to treat for peace, forwarded to him by Zorzi, his
state’s ambassador in that country. Gratefully Bucking-

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1628-29, p. 247.

314

ASSASSINATION

ham grasped at the straw which was offered him. Peace
with France he would welcome more than peace with
Spain. The only drawback was that Louis would enter into
no negotiations with the foreigner about his Protestant sub¬
jects, and having led them so far England could hardly
desert them now. Yet Buckingham saw no reason why
Louis should not be induced to treat with the Huguenots
directly, and meanwhile the expedition to relieve the town
could sail, pending the outcome of negotiations. Perhaps,
thought the Duke, he and Richelieu might meet amicably
outside the walls of Rochelle to formulate some peaceful
solution to the whole problem. That Buckingham intended
no treacherous desertion of the Rochellese was evinced by
the fact that the relief force was to sail without delay.
Should the negotiations prove unsatisfactory, the war
would proceed. But his desire for peace with France was
sincere enough. He had realized that England had more
than enough with the. German war, and could no longer
carry on military operations simultaneously in two or three
parts of the Continent.

By August 17th he was ready to go to Portsmouth and
prepare to accompany the expedition. His wife was in a
state of pitiable distress, and she insisted this time upon
accompanying him to Portsmouth, fearful that this leave-
taking might be the last. Even the Duke himself seems to
have been more apprehensive than usual. Before leaving
London he took the precaution of making his will. To the
Bishop of London he spoke very seriously as he bade him
adieu, begging him to see that His Majesty always looked
after the Duchess and her children. Astonished at such
unwonted pessimism the Bishop asked him if he had any
forebodings. ‘No,’ replied Buckingham, ‘but I think some
adventure may kill me as well as another man.’ 1 On the eve

1 Wotton, ‘Life and Death of George Villiers’, Harleian Mucdlany, v, p. 319.

315

BUCKINGHAM

of his departure Sir Clement Throgmorton thought fit to
give him a word of warning: ‘Were it not better,’ he said
‘that your Grace wore a privy coat or secret shirt of mail?’
‘It needs not,’ replied Buckingham, ‘there are no Roman
spirits left.’ 1 It was the fury of the mob he feared most,
perhaps recalling the ghastly details of Lambe’s murder.

After his arrival in Portsmouth he nearly fell a victim to
this very fury, for on August 22nd as a condemned sailor
was being led to execution, there was a general rush on the
part of his comrades to save him. Buckingham, followed
by an armed guard, rode quickly to the scene, and was
perilously near being lynched by the infuriated mob. But
his guard staved off the attack, the crowd was driven
back, and the sailor executed. Encircled by soldiers, Buck¬
ingham rode back to his lodging in the high street,
suffering severely from the nervous shock of his adventure.
For the rest of the day he was indisposed and remained
indoors. The King, who was staying with Sir Daniel
Norton at Southwick, about five miles outside Portsmouth,
came over to visit him that afternoon. The meeting was
more affectionate than ever, and as Charles finally arose
to depart, Buckingham embraced him passionately, as
though he divined in his inmost soul that they were never
to meet again.

Meanwhile, trudging along the dusty roads to Portsmouth
in the heat of the August sun, might have been seen a foot¬
sore traveller who seemed to be goaded to his efforts by
some inward enthusiasm. Occasionally he secured a lift
from some wagoner, but for the most part he had to walk.
On the morning of Tuesday, August 19th, he had left the
house in Fleet Street where he lodged with his mother, to
set off on his desperate mission. He had taken the pre¬
liminary measure of sewing into the lining of his hat a

1 Wotton, ‘Life and Death of George Villiers’, Harleian Miscellany, v, p. 319.

316

ASSASSINATION

paper on which he had set forth clearly the reasons for the
deed he now contemplated, for he knew that he might never
live to give them afterwards. ‘That man is cowardly, base,
and deserveth not the name of a gentleman or soldier that
is not willing to sacrifice his life for the honour of his God,
his King and his Country. Let no man commend me for
doing of it, but rather discommend themselves as the cause
of it, for if God had not taken away our hearts for our ai-ns
he would not have gone so long unpunished. Signed, John
Felton.’ 1 At a cutler’s shop on Tower Hill he bought a
dagger-knife for tenpence, which he sewed in its sheath in
the lining of his right inner pocket, since his left hand was
maimed. This would enable him to draw it easily with his
one good hand. These preparations completed, he had set
off on his weary journey, leaving his name to be prayed for
at a church in Fleet Street on the following Sunday. He
was a man of morbid religious passion, given to much
reading and brooding, who had gradually come to see in
himself a divinely selected instrument of vengeance. As a
soldier he had served under the Duke in the expedition to
Rhe, and his failure to secure a lieutenancy, for which he
had petitioned him, had added to his more general dis¬
content. He did the seventy miles tramp from London to
Portsmouth in four days, and entered the high street a
little before nine on the morning of Saturday, August 23rd,
the eve of St. Bartholomew.

At that time there stood in the high street a long, low
irregular building two stories high, belonging to a Mr.
Mason, which had been fitted up for Buckingham and his
attendants. The bedrooms of the house opened on to a
long gallery which traversed the entire length of the hall.
The bottom of the gallery stairs communicated with the
breakfast and sitting-rooms by means of a short dark passage.

1 Birch, Court and Times of Charles I, i, p. 3 ^ 7 -

317

BUCKINGHAM

The night before, Buckingham’s sleep had been troubled
by strange dreams, and on this particular morning he
awoke in such a state that the Duchess had ventured to
remonstrate with him, begging him to withdraw a little
from public affairs and be more cautious. At first he was
rather inclined to be harsh with her, but later relented,
kissed her fondly and said he would take her anxiety as a
sign of the great love she bore him. His natural good spirits
apparently reasserted themselves, and, according to the
testimony of Lord Dorchester, who had just arrived with a
message for the Duke to join the King at Southwick, he
came down the gallery stairs into the breakfast-room ‘in
the greatest joy and alacrity I ever saw in him’. 1

In the breakfast-room he was met by Soubise and a com¬
pany of Huguenot officers, who had come over to urge the
necessity of speeding up the relief expedition to La Rochelle.
In the general excitement which prevailed both inside and
outside the house, no one noticed a short, squat figure, in
travel-stained clothes, who made his way through the
crowd and concealed himself behind one of the heavy velvet
hangings in the narrow passage between the hall and the
breakfast-room. As the company breakfasted news was
brought in — false, as it was afterwards ascertained — that
Rohan had managed to relieve La Rochelle from land¬
wards. The Duke was more than delighted, and took little
heed of the excited Frenchmen who, with violent gesticula¬
tions, protested that the news was altogether too impossible
to be true. Buckingham hastily left the table to enter his
coach which was already waiting at the door to convey him
to Southwick. He was more impatient than ever to get to
Charles, now that he had received such joyful news. Still
followed by the excited Frenchmen, he passed from the
breakfast room, and as he stood in the narrow passage one

1 Cal. S. P. Dom. (Charles I), 1628-29, P- 271.

318

ASSASSINATION

of his colonels, Sir Thomas Fryer, a small man, came up to
speak to him and the Duke stopped to listen. Felton, who
was waiting behind the curtain, seized his opportunity and
drove his knife with terrible force through Buckingham’s
left shoulder, piercing his heart. The Duke had just
enough energy left to pull out the knife and lay his hand on
his sword, crying, ‘The villain hath killed me’, before he
staggered against a table and, the blood gushing forth from
his nose and mouth, sank heavily to the ground. At first
his companions thought it was a stroke of apoplexy, but
soon they perceived that the great Duke was dead. 1 Only
three days ago he had celebrated his thirty-sixth birthday.

A scene of indescribable tumult followed; there were
shouts and cries and lamentings, says Carleton, every man
drawing his sword to slay the murderer and none knowing
where to find him. Thinking that the excited gesticulations
of Soubise and his friends had been threats, some set up
cries of ‘A Frenchman! A Frenchman!’ and Felton, think¬
ing he heard his own name pronounced, stepped forward
calmly saying, ‘Here I am’. 1 He could easily have escaped
in the general tumult, but, proud of his deed, scorned such
cowardice. He was saved from the fury of the crowd by
Carleton and a few others who took him prisoner to be
conveyed to London.

A more piteous scene was being enacted in the house
itself. The body of the Duke had been carried on to a table,
in the hall, and then deserted. ‘There was not,’ says
Wotton, ‘a living creature in either of the chambers, no
more than if it had lain in the sands of Ethiopia.’’ But
the silence was soon rent by the most distracted shrieks
from the gallery overhead. Lady Anglesea, Buckingham’s

1 Wotton, ‘Life and Death of George Villiers’, Harleian Miscellany , V, p. 320;
Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. 111, p. 261.

a Ibid. . „

’ Wotton, ‘Life and Death of George Villiers*, Harleian Miscellany, v, p. 320.

319

BUCKINGHAM

sister-in-law, who was staying with them, had witnessed
the recent scenes of terror and confusion and had had the
melancholy duty of telling the poor Duchess that the hour
she had so long dreaded was here at last. The stricken lady
rushed out in her nightdress on to the gallery from where
she saw the bleeding body of him whom she had loved more
dearly than life itself. ‘Ah, poor ladies,’ wrote Dorchester,
who, attracted by the screams, witnessed the scene, ‘such
was their screechings, tears and distractions, that I never
in my life heard the like before and hope never to hear the
like again.’ 1

Meanwhile Captain Charles Price had saddled his horse
and ridden post-haste to Southwick to convey the dreadful
tidings to the King. Charles was at morning prayer when
the messenger arrived and whispered the news in his ear.
His face instantly clouded with signs of the deepest emotion,
but, like one dazed by a nightmare, he concluded his
prayers in the normal maimer. Once in his own room he
awoke to reality, and throwing himself upon the bed burst
into passionate tears, stricken to the very heart at the loss of
his dearest friend. There can be little doubt that at this
bitter moment King Charles and his people were alienated
beyond any hope of reconciliation. Between them would
always be the spectre of his murdered friend, of whom he
afterwards spoke as ‘his martyr’. These feelings were
strengthened as he heard how the public had received the
news with joyful faces, and openly drunk the murderer’s
health in the streets.

On September ioth, 1628, the mortal remains of him
who had been the most powerful man in England were
quietly and privately interred in Westminster Abbey.® In

1 Ellis, Original Letters , Series I, vol. in, p. 256.

* Charles feared that the mob might even now attempt to seize the Duke’s dead
body, Mid so had the funeral carried out in private. At ten o’clock next night there
was a sham ceremony, with, much pomp and unseemly noise to deceive the populace.
See Birch, Court and Times of Charles 1 , 1, p. 399.

3^0

ASSASSINATION

Henry VIFs chapel, reserved at one time for none but
anointed kings, one of the greatest of royal favourites found
his final resting place. In the dark days ahead Charles was
to have many a faithful servant, but never again one who
was so dear to him as his well-beloved Steenie.

x

381

NOTE ON SOURCES

The Domestic State Papers for this period have all been
calendared, those for James I by M. A. Everett-Green,
4 vols., London, 1857-59, with addenda vol. 1580-1625,
London, 1872; those for Charles I by J. Bruce, 22 vols.,
London, 1860-1921, with addenda vol. 1624-49, London,
1879. These contain much valuable information upon
Buckingham’s career, and in the reign of Charles I especially
his name appears upon almost every page. But many of the
entries — especially in the calendars for James I — are
merely headings, no attempt having been made to repro¬
duce them in detail. The Calendar of Venetian State Papers ,
ed. by H. F. Brown and A. B. Hind, London, 1900-25, is
much more illuminating, serving to throw valuable light up¬
on Buckingham’s part in the Spanish marriage proceedings,
the negotiations for the French marriage, and the breach in
Anglo-French relations which followed. The remarks of
the Venetian ambassadors are of extreme interest and
provide a lively commentary upon many of the chief
episodes of the reigns.

The chief official records of the proceedings in Parliament
are the Journals of the House of Lords and the Journals of
the House of Commons. These give full accounts of the
business transacted in the Houses, though scanty records
of words spoken by members. But the rule of secrecy was,
fortunately, broken by one or two clerks, so that we have
valuable notes of the Parliamentary proceedings during
many of these years. For the House of Lords there are
‘Notes of Debates in the House of Lords (1624-26)’, taken
by Henry Elsing and Robert Bowyer, ed. by S. R. Gardiner,

323

NOTE ON SOURCES

Camden Society, 1879, and ‘Notes of Debates in the House of
Lords, 1621, 1625, and 1628’, again taken by Elsing and
Bowyer, ed. by F. H. Relf, Camden Society, 1929. These
volumes contain copious notes describing the debates in the
House of Lords, of which our only other record is a chance
allusion in some contemporary letter. For the House of
Commons there are ‘Proceedings and Debates in 1621’,
from the pen of E. Nicholas, pub. Oxford, 1776, and
‘Debates in the House of Commons in 1625’, ed. by S. R.
Gardiner from notes taken by Richard Knightley, m.p.,
Camden Society, 1873. For the impeachment of Buckingham
and the trial of Bristol we have ‘Documents Illustrating the
Im peachment of the Duke of Buckingham in 1626’, ed. by
S. R. Gardiner, Camden Society, 1889, and the ‘Defence of
the Earl of Bristol 5 , ed. S. R. Gardiner, Camden Miscellany,
vol. vi, 1871. The first volume of Historical Collections, by
John Rushworth, London, 1721, provides a valuable store
of state papers, speeches in Parliament, and pamphlets
loosely gathered into a slight narrative. Rushworth was a
banister and occupied many official positions. He had
access to valuable information, and his reproduction of
documents is, in the main, trustworthy. Reports of speeches
and proceedings in Parliament are also given in the
Parliamentary History of England, ed. by William Cobbett,
London, 1806-20.

A store of information, to be used carefully, is found in
contemporary letters and chronicles. Valuable letters,
many of them actually addressed to Buckingham, and
throwing light on his career, are printed in Cabala, Sive
Scrinia Sacra, Mysteries of State and Government, London, 1691.
There is a wealth of interesting correspondence, fur n is h ing
important details on court life and political events in Court
and Times of James I, 2 vols., and Court and Times of Charles I,
2 vols., by Thomas Birch, ed. by R. F. Williams, London,

324

NOTE ON SOURCES

1848. These consist mainly of the detailed and entertaining
newsletters of J. Chamberlain and J. Mead. Other letters
including many of those of James I and Charles, as Prince
and King, are printed in Original Letters Illustrative of English
History , ed. by Sir Henry Ellis, London, 1825. Miscellaneous
State Papers, from 1501-1726, ed. by P. Yorke, Earl of Hard-
wicke, 2 vols., London, 1778, are very valuable, containing
many of the letters of James I to Charles and Buckingham,
and of Buckingham to both Charles and James. The
correspondence of Bristol and of Carlisle, printed here, is
also of great importance. The Hardwiche State Papers have
been found invaluable in dealing with the negotiations for
the Spanish marriage and the French marriage, and pro¬
vide many interesting letters of first rate importance
describing the events on the island of Rhe. Important cor¬
respondence between Buckingham and Sir Francis Bacon
is printed in the Letters and Life of Sir-Francis Bacon, vol. Vi,
ed. byj. Spedding, London, 1839. Dr. Godfrey Goodman’s
Court of King James, London, 1839, combines chronicle and
letters in two valuable volumes giving much interesting
correspondence from the Duchess of Buckingham to her
husband, together with other letters to the Duke of an
intimate character.

The contemporary biography of Buckingham is a slight
work, reprinted from an original MS. of thirty pages,
entitled { A Short View of the Life and Death of George
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham’, by Sir Henry Wotton, in
Harleian Miscellany, vol. v, London, 1810. It contains
much interesting detail, and is particularly useful for the
story of Villiers’s early years and for the full account of the
journey of Charles and Buckingham to Spain in 1623.
The Autobiography of Sir Simonds d.'Ewes, 2 vols., London,
1845, is one of the more valuable diaries of this period,
though the Puritan view of the writer must be borne in

325

NOTE ON SOURCES

mind. The first volume of The History of the Rebellion and
Civil Wars in England , by Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon,
London, 1826, throws interesting light upon Buckingham’s
career and gives a very just estimate of his character. It is
frequently at fault, however, in points of detail, since the
author wrote much of it from memory some time after the
occurrence of the events described. Scrinia Reserata, a
Memorial offered to the great deservings of John Williams,
d.d., by J. Hacket, in two parts, London, 1693, is an
admiring biography of Archbishop Williams, giving valu¬
able information upon his relations with Buckingham, but
tending to emphasize unduly the part played by Williams
in most of the events. Sir Anthony Weldon’s Court and
Character of King James , London, 1650, is, for the most part,
too scurrilous to be of value, and such stories as are taken
from it need to be treated cautiously. ‘Aulicus Coquinariae’,
in Secret History of the Court of James /, ed. by Sir Walter
Scott, Edin., x 811, is an answer to the above and similarly
unreliable; whilst Peyton’s ‘Divine Catastrophe of the
House of Stuarts’, also in Scott’s Secret History , needs
approaching more than gingerly. A more reliable chroni¬
cler is Arthur Wilson, whose interesting ‘Life and Reign of
James I’, is printed in vol. n of Kennet’s Complete History
of Great Britain , London, 1706. Letters, rare pamphlets,
and several curious MSS. are hung upon a thin narrative
in Progresses , Processions and Magnificent Festivities of King
James I, ed. by J. B. Nichols, London, 1828, whilst Somers’s
Tracts , London, 1748-52, has, in its earlier volumes, one
or two descriptive pamphlets bearing upon this subject.

‘The Narrative of the Spanish Marriage Treaty’, by
Fray Francisco de Jesus, trans. by S. R. Gardiner, Camden
Society , 1869, is a valuable account of the negotiations con¬
nected with the Spanish Marriage Treaty. Francisco de
Jesus was a Carmelite friar who took an active part in the

326

NOTE ON SOURCES

theological discussions, possessed important official docu¬
ments, and from them drew up his valuable record. The
story of Buckingham’s famous amour with the French
Queen is described in the M'emoires de Madam de Motteoille,
Paris 1885. Bassompierre’s embassy to England in 1626 is
described in the Ambassade du Marichal de Bassompierre en
Angleterre, Cologne, 1688. The Cadiz voyage of 1625 is
fully related in ‘The Voyage to Cadiz in 1625’, by J. Glan-
ville, secretary to the admiral, Camden Society, 1883. The
story of the proceedings on the island of Rhe (which are
also described very fully in the Domestic Calendar) is told by
Edward Herbert, Baron of Cherbury, in ‘The Expedition
to the Isle of Rhe’, ed. by the Earl of Powis, PMlobiblon
Society, London, i860. Both these accounts are of great
value as coming from an actual eyewitness.

Of the secondary authorities the most valuable commen¬
tary for this period is, without doubt, S. R. Gardiner,
History of England (1603-42), London, 1893. Professor
Gardiner visited Spain to study the documents relating to
the Spanish marriage negotiations, and his information on
this subject is voluminous. He conducted his investigations
with tireless industry, and his History is of great value to all
students of this period. There is an interesting article on
Buckingham in the Dictionary of National Biography, and
another, going into more detail, in the Biograpfaca Britannka,
vol. vi, London, 1747.

The Biography of Sir John Eliot, by John Forster, London,
1864, though rather uncritical, contains many important
speeches and other valuable information throwing light on
the relations between Buckingham and Sir John Eliot.
Lavisse provides a very satisfactory History of France, which
helps to elucidate Anglo-French diplomacy for this period,
whilst several valuable letters throwing light on Bucking¬
ham’s foreign policy are printed in the Htstory of France, by

327

NOTE ON SOURCES

E. E. Crowe, London, 1863. The most useful general
histories for this period are England Under the Stuarts, by
G. M. Trevelyan, London, 1925 (revised ed.), and the
History of England, 1603-1660, by F. C. Montague; Pol. Hist,
of England, vol. vn, London, 1907.

INDEX

Abbot, George, Archbishop of Can¬
terbury, 16,17, 118
AngoulSme, Duke of, 271, 272
Anne of Austria, Queen of France:
Rehearses at a masque, 78; Bucking¬
ham makes love to, 183, 186, 187;
Rumours that Buckingham desires to
revisit, 255

-of Denmark, Queen of England,

16, 17, i 9 > 39 , 403
Apthorpe, 11, 12, 14
Ashton, Roger, 14
Aston, Walter, 67, 76, 91, 136

Bacon, Francis: Letter of advice to
Buckingham, 24; Buckingham mites
to, from Scotland, 25; Opposes Coke,
27; Incurs Buckingham’s displeasure,
28; Received back into favour, 29;
Further advice to Buckingham, 29;
Attacked in Upper House, 57; Trial
and disgrace of, 59
Bassano, II, 43

Bassompierre, Mardchal, 252, 254, 255,
257 , 259

Baynard’s Castle, Entertainment at, 16
Becher, William, 262, 268, 274, 275,
276, 277

BeUarmine, Cardinal, James refers to,
89

Belvoir Castle, 43
Billesden, 13
Bingley, Ralph, 287
Blackheath, 133
Black Rod, 200

Blainville, Sieur de, French ambassa¬
dor, 216, 217
Blundell, George, 262
Bohemia, 49, 55
Brett, Alexander, 287
Bristol, John Digby, First Earl of:
James recommends to Charles, 39;
Goes as ambassador to Spain, 64;
Difficult position of, 67; Views on
Spanish negotiations, 68; Receives
Charles and Buckingham, 82; Rides
in procession to Madrid, 90; Inter¬
rogates Charles, 93; Said to control
negotiations in Spain, 115; Condemns
Buckingham, 124; Wisdom of his
views, 126; Powers of proxy conferred
upon, 132; Letter to James in favour

of match, 137; Acquaints Philip with
James s request, 137; James orders
T 59 ; Denied a hearing, 160;
Kefused permission to attend Coro¬
nation, 229; Demands writ of sum¬
mons to Parliament, 230; Attacks
Buckingham in Upper House, 231*
Dramatic appeal to Lords, 231; Gay
appearance of, at Westminster, 232;
Accused of treason by Charles, 232
Charges against Buckingham, 2ar
Sent to Tower, 249

Brookesby, 13

Buckingham, George Villiers, First
Duke of: At Apthorpe, n, 12, i 4;
Parentage of, 13; Birthplace of, 13;
Early years of, 13; Visits France, 14;
Decides to ‘woo fortune in court,
14; At a horse race in Cambridge¬
shire, 14; Becomes Cupbearer, 15;
Knighted and appointed Gentleman
of Bedchamber, 16; Rebuffed by
Somerset, 17; Master of the Horse,
19; Knight of the Garter, 19; Sus¬
picions of smallpox, 19; Relations
with Anne of Denmark, 19; Relations
with Prince Charles, 21; Baron
Whaddon and Viscount Villiers, 22;
Earl of Buckingham, 22; Privy
Councillor, 23; Applies to Bacon for
advice, 24; Accompanies James to
Scotland, 25; Sworn of the Scottish
Privy Council, 26; Rebukes Bacon,
28; Marquis of Buckingham, 29;
Appearance of, 32; Gives banquet, 32;
Relations with the ladies, 36; Lord
High Admiral, 38; Receives Keeper-
ship of Denmark House, 40; Marriage
with Lady Katherine Maimers, 42;

Presents Masque of Metamorphosed
Gipsies, 44, 47; Artistic collections
of, 43; Early foreign policy of, 50;
Supports monopolies, 56, 57; Change
of front, 58, 59; Intervenes in
Bacon's trial, 59; Yelverton attacks,
60; Challenges Pembroke, 62; Con¬
firmed by Bishop of London, 63;
Letter to Gondomar, 65; Interview
with James, 70-74 passim; Takes
leave of King, 75; Journey to Spain,
75-79 passim ; Arrives at Bristol's
lodgings, 82; Reception at Spanish

3«9

INDEX

Buckingham —continued

Court, 85; Meets King of Spain, 87;
Interview with Olivares, 88; In state
entry into Madrid, 90; Receives
golden key to Palace, 92; Describes
Infanta to James, 90, 91; Letter of
Pope to, 94; Spaniards attempt to
convert, 94-95; Countermands order
for tilting horses, 95; Behaviour
shocks Spaniards, 97, 98; Writes to
James for more jewels, 99; Rebuked
by Olivares, 101; Threatened with
‘a bloody greeting 7 , 102; Argues with
Papal Nuncio, 103; Rates Olivares,
105; King's affection for family of,
105; Duke of Buckingham, 107;
Letter of thanks to James, 107;
Daughter’s affection for, 108; Wife’s
devotion to, 108, no; James wears
picture of next his heart, no;
Charles remonstrates with for ‘harsh
methods’, 115; Quarrel with Olivares,
115; Conduct in Spain, 120, 121;
Long interview with Olivares, 121;
How far responsible for breakdown,
124, 125; Illness of, 127; Stormy
parting with Olivares, 129, 130;
‘Evil disposition* to Spain, 130;
Return to England, 132; Reunion
with James, 133; Popularity of, 132
et seq.; At Council meeting, 135;
Gives feast to Spanish ambassadors,
138; Virtual ruler of England, 140;
Violence of, at Council meeting, 141;
Relation to Parliament (1624), I 4 J2 >
144 passim ; Complaint of Spanish
ambassadors against, 145; Parliament
supports, 145; Haughty letters to
James, 147, 150; Suggests French
marriage, 151; Summons Committee
of Houses in Painted Chamber, 154;
Accusations of Spanish ambassadors
against, 154,156; Cleared of suspicion,
157; Develops jaundice, 161; Urges
French marriage, 166-169 passim ;
Takes waters at Wellingborough, 168;
Opens James’s dispatches, 169; Letter
to Nithsdale, 170; Plan of campaign
(1625), 170, 171; Failure of, 172;
Prepares to go to France as proxy,
i73> 174; Accused of poisoning

James, 176; Favour with New King,
178; Clarendon’s estimate of charac¬
ter of, 179-180; Displeasure with
Cottington, 180, 181; Arrival in
France, 183; Speaks bitterly to Queen
Mother, 185; Relations with Rubens,
185, 186; Amour with Anne of
Austria, 183-187; Instructions to
Pennington, 191-194 passim ; Ill

feeling towards, in Parliament at
Oxford, 195; Speech to Houses in
Christ Church Hall, 196-199; At¬
titude to Parliament, 201; ‘Generalis¬
simo* of Cadiz expedition, 202; Lord
Cromwell gives advice to, 203, 204;
Charles takes hand of, at Coronation
ceremony, 213; Charles sends to
rebuke Henrietta Maria, 216; Dr.
Turner accuses, 219, 220; Eliot’s
speech against, 222; Charles’s vigorous
championship of, 221, 223; Speech
of to Houses in Painted Chamber,
224-228; Attacked by Bristol, 231;
Shabby equipage of, 232; Bristol’s
charges against, 233; Charles fights
for 233; Impeachment of, 234-238;
Eliot compares to Sejanus, 239;
Rebuffs to Wentworth’s overtures,
240; Character of, 241-244; Appointed
Chancellor of Cambridge University,
247; Gracious letter of thanks, 247,
248; Defence of, 248; Charges
against, to proceed in Star Chamber,
249; Attempts to economize, 251;
Threatened by sailors, 251; Charles
orders to drive away the French, 253;
Gives masque in honour of Bassom-
pierre, 254; Rumours that he wishes to
revisit Anne of Austria, 255; Relations
with Henrietta Maria, 256; Louis has
‘mysterious secret jealously’ towards,
256; Visits Dover, 256; Letter to
Richelieu, 259; Sends Gerbier to
negotiate in Spain, 260; Suggested
expedition of, to Rh6, 260, 261;
Gives farewell supper at York
House, 263; Goes to Portsmouth, 263;
Conduct on Isle of Rh6, 265-287
passim ; Wife’s letter to, 280; Mother’s
letter to, 281; Advice of Pye to, 281;
Charles affirms devotion to, 282;
Returns from Rh6, 288, 289; Plot
against, 290; Relation to Council, 291;
Armed train bands for protection of,
293; Implores Charles to summon
Parliament, 294; Proposes a stand in g
army, 294; Parliament attacks, 302;
Uses influence against Petition of
Right, 305; Eliot denounces, 306;
Coke names as ‘Cause of all miseries’,
307; Speech at Council Table, 307;
Heads a deputation from Houses,
308; Remonstrance against, 310;
Libel against, 312; Prophesies of
death of, 312; Charles says he will
perish with, 313; Surrenders Warden-
ship of Cinque Ports, 313; Interview
with Contarini, 314; Pessimism of,
315; Charles’s last visit to, 316;

INDEX

Buckingham —continued

Assassination of, 319; Charles’s grief
at death of, 320; Burial of, 320

■ -George Villiers, Second Duke of,

43 , 107

■ - Katherine Villiers, Duchess of:

Buckingham attracted by, 37; Re¬
ligious views of, 40; Spends night
with Countess of Buckingham, 41;
Marriage of, 42; Present at Masque
of Metamorphosed Gipsies, 46;
James’s courtesy to, 52; Confirmation
of, 63; James’s letters to, 81; Dines
with James, 105; Devotion of, to
Buckingham, 108-no passim ; Writes
to Buckingham at Rh6, 280; Letter to
Dr. Moore, 280; Accompanies Buck¬
ingham to Portsmouth, 315; Buck¬
ingham asks Bishop of London to
take care of, 315; Begs Buckingham
to withdraw from public affairs, 318;
Grief at Buckingham’s death, 320

-Mary Compton, Countess of, 26,

35,40,46, 52, 63,176, 216,281
Burgh, John, 263, 277
Burley-on-the-Hill, 42 et seq.

Cadiz, 173, expedition to, 202-207
passim

Carleton, Dudley, 211, 229
Carlisle, James Hay, Earl of, 166, 170
Carr, Robert (see Earl of Somerset)
Cecil, Diana, 37

-Edward, Viscount Wimbledon,

203, 205, 206

-Robert, 50

Charles I:

- As Prince of Wales: Present at

knighting of Villiers, 17; Turns water
spout on Villiers, 20; Dispute with
Villiers at tennis, 20; Character of,
20, 21; Appears as a masquer, 33;
Asks favour of Buckingham, 34;
Feelings on # Spanish match, 64;
Wishes to raise a royal army, 66;
Interview with James, 70-74; Takes
leave of King, 75; Journey to Spain,
75-79 passim; Arrives at Bristol’s
lodging, 82; Meeting with Gondomar,
85; Solemn entry into Madrid, 90, 91;
Anger at Bristol’s questions, 93;
Meets Infanta, 95; Spaniards essay
conversion of, 98; Forces his way
into Infanta’s garden, 101; Impossible
promises to Spaniards, 102, 103;
James grants ‘ample trust*, 1x1;
Duplicity of, 117; Resolves to leave
Spain, 123; Mistaken notions of, 126;
Takes leave of Spaniards, 128-130
passim ; Reunion with James, 133;

Contempt for Spain, 139; Improve¬
ment in, 142; Speech to Houses, 149;
Opposition to James, 150; Rejects
Countess of Olivares’s present, 153
Charles I: As King of England: Pro¬
claimed King, 177; Character of, 177;
Love for Buckingham, 178; Goes to
Blackwall, 182; Greets Henrietta
Maria, 188; Accompanies Henrietta
Maria to Whitehall, 188-189; Speech
to Parliament (1625), 190; Speech to
Houses m Christ Church Hall, 195;
Dissolves Parliament (1625), 200;
Supports Buckingham, 201; Rela¬
tions with Henrietta Maria, 212;
Coronation of, 212-214; Hostile
attitude to France, 214; Anger
towards Henrietta Maria, 216; Opens
Parliament of 1626, 217; Reasons
for support of Buckingham, 218;
Rebukes Commons for attack on
Buckingham, 220; Orders Commons
not to ‘look after grievances’, 221;
Speech of, to Commons at Whitehall,
223; Relations with France, 228, 229;
Brings charges against Bristol, 231-
233; Supports Buckingham during
impeachment, 234 et seq.; Shows trust
in Buckingham, 245; Advances Buck¬
ingham as Chancellor of Cambridge
University, 247; Dissolves Parliament
(1626), 249; Revokes pensions, 251;
Criticism of policy of, 252; Expels
Queen’s French attendants, 253;
Represented in a masque, 255; Tries
to raise forced loan, 255; Dismisses
Chief Justice, 258; Desire of, to
assist French Huguenots, 261; Dines
on the Triumph, 263; Letters of, to
Marlborough and Weston, 274, 275;
Affectionate meeting with Bucking¬
ham, 289; Determination of, to
support La Rochelle, 292; Decides
to summon Parliament, 295; Speech
to Parliament (1628), 300; Commands
Parliament ‘not to lay aspersion on
State, or ministers’, 306; Accepts
Petition of Right, 308; Incensed by
popular anarchy, 311; Shows esteem
for Buckingham, 312; Prorogues
Parliament, 312; Will perish with
Buckingham, 313; Goes to Ports¬
mouth, 314; Last visit of, to Bucking¬
ham, 316; Grief of, at Buckingham s
death, 320

Chevreuse, Duke of, 183
Chichester, Arthur, 141
Coke, Clement, 27

-Edward, 26, 27, 61, i45> 3°7

-Frances, 26, 28

331

INDEX

Coke, John, 192, 193
Commons, House of (1621):

Attacks monopolies, 56-58; Enters
Remonstrance in Journals, 62

-(1624): Buckingham’s popularity

with, 145; Anti-Spanish feeling in,
146, 147

-(1625): Fight for seats m, 189;

Votes supplies, 190; Draws up
petition against Buckingham, 200;
Motives of attack of, on Buckingham,
201; Resolves that ‘Common Fame*
is a good ground for inquiry, 220;
Rebuked by Charles, 220, 221, 223;
Buckingham’s speech to, in Painted
Chamber, • 224-228; Remonstrance
•of, 22$;. impeaches Buckingham,
234 et seq< ... -

--(1628): Demands redress of griev¬
ances, 301;' .Weeping members of,
306; Applaiudsf E/liot, 308; Draws up
Remonstrance against Buckingham,
310, . 1 W '

Compton, Mary: (see Duchess of

Cpnway v . E.dtoterd (Secretary of State),

• 95, 122, 141, 204, 228, 269, 27o
-276, 277

Cottington, Francis, 73, 77, 105, 112,
180, 181, 207
Cromwell, Oliver, 300
-Thomas, Lord, 173, 203

De Burgh, Hubert, 222
D’Effiat, Marquis, 167-169 passim
De Montfort, Simon, 223
Denbigh, John, Earl of, 203, 295-298
passim
Deptford, 38

Devereux, Robert (see Earl of Essex)
D’Ewes, Simonds, 32, 36, 213
Digby, John (see Earl of Bristol)

Digges, Dudley, 112, 235, 245, 246

Edinburgh, 25, 26
Edmondes, Thomas, 33
Eliot, John: Goes to France with
Villiers, 14; Political views of, 31,170;
Assumes leadership of Parliament
(1626), 218; Significance of his
attack, 219; His first speech against
Buckingham, 222; Compares Buck¬
ingham to Sejanus, 239; Estimate of
his speech, 240-244; Sent to Tower,
245; His release, 246; Opposes forced
loan, 258; Is returned to Parliament
of 1628, 299; Attends meeting at Sir
Robert Cotton’s, 300; Attacks Buck¬
ingham (1628), 302

Elizabeth, Electress Palatine, 20, 66,

156

Elizabeth, Queen of England, 55, 178,
200, 219, 241
Escurial, Palace of, 129

Felton, John: Leaves for Portsmouth,
316; Character of, 317; Enters
Buckingham’s lodging, 318; Murders
Buckingham, 319; His capture, 319
Fielding, Viscount, 290
Finch, John, 307

Frederick, Elector Palatine, 50, 51

Gabor, Bethlen, 250
Gerbier, Balthazar, 109, no, 260
Glanville, John, 234
Gondomar, Diego Sarmiento, Count of,
35, 5i, 53 , 55, 61, 62, 64, 65, 68, 82,

85

Graham, John, 14

-Richard, 75, 77

Gresley, John, 79

Hague, 50, 207
Hamilton, Marquis of, 153
Hampden, John, 31, 299, 300
Hatton House, 27

-Lady, 27, 37

Hawley, Edward, 287
Heidelberg, 65, 66

Henrietta Maria, Queen of England:
Charles sees, at a masque, 77;
Buckingham proposes marriage of,
with Charles, 151; Description of, 165;

. Marriage by proxy, 183; Arrival in
England, 187, 188; Refuses to take

Will not go to Countess of Bucking¬
ham’s balcony, 216; Dismissal of her
French attendants, 253; Her relations
with Buckingham, 256
Henry III, King of England, 222

-IV, King of England, 223

-V, King of England, 178, 268

-^ VIII, King of England, 219

-Prince of Wales, 20, 63, 64, 100

Hertford, William Seymour, Earl of, 16
Holland, Henry Rich, Lord Kensing¬
ton, First Earl of, 165, 211, 229, 275,
276, 279, 283, 284, 285, 288
Hyde, Nicholas, 258

Inijosa, Marquis of, 112, 145

James I, King of England: Visits
Apthorpe, 11; Appearance of, xz;
Nicknames Villiers ‘Steenie’, 12;
His delight in Villiers as Cupbearer,
15; Prefers Queen to recommend
favourites, 16; Desires reconciliation
between Villiers and Somerset, 18;
Affection for ‘Steenie’, 22; Visits

332

INDEX

James I —continued

Scotland, 25; Supports Buckingham
against Bacon, 28; Presence of, at
wedding of Sir John Villiers, 28;
Declares his love for Buckingham, 29;
Proposes toast to Buckingham, 33;
Honours Villiers family, 35; Dedi¬
cates book to Buckingham, 37;
Appoints Buckingham Lord High
Admiral, 38; Illness of {1618), 39;
His visits to Burley, 43-48; His
verses, on leaving Burley, 47; Favours
Spanish alliance, 50, 51; Rides down
in state to open Parliament (1621), 52;
Speech to Parliament (1621), 53-54;
Conversation with Gondomar, 55;
His attitude to monopolies, 56-58;,
Tears out Remonstrance, 62; Urges
Spanish marriage, 69; His interview
with Charles and Buckingham, 70-74;
Consents to Spanish visit, 74; His
leave-taking of Charles and Bucking¬
ham, 75; Writes to Charles and
Buckingham in Spain, 80, 81; Stands
firm on point of religion, 89; Sends
jewels to Spain, 96; Sends chaplains
to Charles and Buckingham, 98;
Is angry at Spanish demands, 102;
Love for Mary Villiers., 106; Bestows
dukedom on Buckingham, 107; Orders
Charles and Buckingham to return,

113; Grows melancholy, 114; Accepts
marriage articles, 118; His joyful
reunion with Charles and Bucking¬
ham, 133; His vacillation, 139;
Speech to Parliament (1624), 142;
IBs temporization, 146, 147; Buck¬
ingham’s angry letter to, 147; His
submission to Buckingham, 148;
Complains of Charles and Bucking¬
ham, 148; His grief at story of
Buckingham’s perfidy, 157; His re¬
conciliation with Buckingham, 158;
Refuses French demands, 168; Re¬
vises letter at Buckingham’s request,
169; Agrees to French demands, 169;
Stricken by tertian ague, 175; His
faith in Buckingham, 176; His death,
176

Jones, Inigo, 34
Jonson, Ben, 34, 44 et seq,

Lafuente, French Ambassador, 152
Lambe, Dr., 311
La Pr6e, 265, 267, 285
La Rochelle, 191, 229, 261, 264, 270,
271, 292, 295-298 passim
Laud, William, Archbishop of Canter¬
bury: His friendship with Bucking¬
ham, 63

Lennox, Duke of, 39

Lewkenor, Lewis, 76

Louis XIII, King of France, 163, 167,

t ¥?’ i 8 4 , 187, 229

Lords, House of: Inquires into con¬
duct of Referees, 57; Sentences
Bacon, 59; And Yelverton, 60;
Supports Buckingham, 145; Bristol
gjpeals to, 231; Trials of Bristol and
Buckingham to proceed simultan¬
eously, 231, 232; Challenges Charles's
authority, 233; Commons present
charges against Bu ckingham to, 234;
Impeachment of Bu ckingham before,
234-238 - . .

Lumley House, 42 , ^

. IVLunwaring, Henry^C?..

Mandeville, Henry ^Montague, Lord,
57 , 237, 242L § r

Manners, Francis-Earl of Rut¬
land) V .. '

—~ Katherine of Buck¬
ingham) , ^

Mansell, Robert, 202,%7',' ‘

Man$f$ld, Count, i53» J#4i lji>

250 _ ' * -.

Maria, Infanta of Spain: l&Jptised
marriage of, with Prince Charles, 51,
53; Appearance of, 68; Drives through
Prado, 86; Meeting with Charles, 95;
Preparations for, in England, zxx;
Takes title of ‘Princess of England*,
117; Buckingham’s interview with,
122; Unpopularity of, in England,
132; Learns to speak English, X35;
Bristol pleads for, 136, 137; Her
marriage postponed, 139
Marie de Medici, Queen Mother of
France, 164, 185,187
Marlborough, James Ley, Earl of, 274
Mason, Dr., Secretary to Buckingham,
210, 283

Maurice, of Nassau, 50
May, Humphrey, 282
Mendoza, Diego, 132,138
Michell, Francis, 56, 158L
Middlesex, Lionel Cranfield, Earl of.
Lord Treasurer of England, 106,158,

159, 237, 242L
Mildmay, Anthony, 11

-Henry, 242L

Mompesson, Giles, 56
Monopolies, 50-60 passim
Monson, Henry, 34
Montjoy, Lord, 269
Moore, Dr., 280

Newhall, 74
Newmarket, 39 > 75

333

INDEX

Nicholas, John, Secretary to Bucking¬
ham, 193, *7*

Nithsdale, Robert Maxwell, Earl of, 169
Nonesuch, 161, 253

Nottingham, Charles Howard, Earl of,

37,38,236

Olivares, Conde of: Conversation
with Endymion Porter, 67; Coercion
of Infanta, 68; Interview with Philip,
83; Meets Buckingham, 85; Inter¬
view with Buckingham, 88; His
remarks on Charles’s behaviour, 100;
Rebukes Buckingham, 101, 102;

Offets army to suppress possible
revolt, 116;, His conversations with
Charles ana Buckingham, 125; His
stormy parting with Buckingham,
129, 130 c
-^-Condessa of, 5 i, 121, 153

Palatinate, 50, 54= 133
Parliament, the Eijglish:

-(1621): Sungnoned, 49, Opening

of, 52; King’s speech to, 53 - 54 ;
Grants supply, 55; Dissolution de¬
cided upon, 62

-(1624): State opening of, 141;

Buckingham’s Relation to, 142-144;
Reassembly delayed, 169

-(1625): Meets during plague, 189;

Adjournment of, 191; Reassembles at
Oxford, 195; Dissolution of, 200

-(1626): Opening of, 216; King’s

speech to, 217; Impeaches Bucking¬
ham, 234-238; Is dissolved, 249
-(1628): Elections for, 299; Mem¬
bers of, 299, 300; King’s speech to,
300; Prorogation of, 312
Pembroke, William Herbert, Earl of,
14, 15, 62, 233

Pennington, John, 191-194 passim, 259,
260, 274

Petersen, Cornelius, 265
Petition of Right, 304 et seq.

Phelips, Robert, 61, 145, 170, 190, 195,
301

Philip III, King of Spain, 83

-IV, King of Spain, 68, 90, 91, 96,

^ 1 **, I5S

Porter, Endymion, 66, 67, 68, 73, 76,
138

Prague, Defenestration of, 50
Pye, Robert, 281, 299

Referees, 57, 58
Remington, John, 175
Rh6, Isle of, Buckingham’s expeditior
to, 265-291 passing ^ . ....

Richard II, King i^ F ' R ogjgndpzgy-

Sit

Richelieu, Cardinal, 162, 168, 169, 184
214

Roman Catholics, in England, 49, 50
Si. 5 *> 53 , 61, 65 seq., 72, 73, 89 ,-xox’,
103, 104, 129, 142, 151, 166-170,.
184, 195 , 197
Royston, 74, 75, 132, 133
Rubens, Peter Paul, 43, 185, 186, 260
Rudyerd, Benjamin, 146
Rutland, Francis Manners, Earl of, 37
41,42,105,111,112,122

St. Peter , of Havre de Grace, 211, 236,
248

Santander, 130, 136
Sherborne, 19, 22, 160, 229
Somerset, Robert Carr, Earl of, 12, 15,
16, 22, 50

Soubise, Marshal, 261, 268
‘Steenie*, James gives, as nickname to
Villiers, 12

Taylor, William, the Water Poet,
133

Theobalds, 39, 74, 177
Tilly, Count, 50, 65, 68
Titian, 43

Toiras, Marshal, 267, 286

Valtelline, 164, 166, 173, 197

Vega, Lope de, Love song of, 91

Vemey, Edmund, 133

Veronese, Paul, 43

Vic, Henri de, 270, 272

Villiers, Christopher, 23, 56, 58, 106

-Edward, 56, 58

-George (see Duke of Buckingham)

-John, 26, 28

-Katherine (see Duchess of Buck¬
ingham)

-Mary, 105, 106, 108, 156

Wallenstein, Count, 246, 250
Walter, William, 220
Wellingborough, 168
Wentworth, Thomas (afterwards Earl of
Strafford), 31, 210, 258, 300-302
passim

Weston, Richard, 274
White Mountain, Battle of, 50
Williams, John, 40, 41, 42, 58, 62, 81,
103, 176

Wilmot, Lord, 283, 284
Winwood, Ralph, 27
Woodstock, 19

Yelverton, Henry, attacks Bucking¬
ham, 59, 60